


All He Ever Wanted

by sascake



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Multi, Muteness, Norwegian Mythology & Folklore, Past Abuse, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sascake/pseuds/sascake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was to be a simple job on Søren's part: help Berwald clean out the house of its deceased, secluded owner, and then return home to his ordinary life. The scenario became impossible when they came across a man who, by all accounts, wasn't supposed to exist; and, soon after, were drawn into protecting his secrets and retrieving all that he had lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**hulder** , noun: a secretive forest creature found in scandinavian folklore, distinguished by their tail and hollow back. feminine, huldra; masculine, huldrekarl._

* * *

“Does he talk? At all?”

Søren was staring at the other figure in the room, eyes wide, and chewed on his thumbnail as he did so. The skin around it was already ragged; if he kept it on for much longer, he’d draw blood, and yet his mind seemed unfocused on the pain.

“I’ve heard nothin’. You?” Berwald also glanced over, running suspicious eyes over the stranger. “He hasn’t made a sound.”

“He did. When he grabbed me, he was making noises in the back of his throat. I guess he was scared of us.” The Dane shifted, tucking his legs underneath him. “ _Are_ they a he? I didn’t get a chance to look.”

“No; me neither. Yeh threw a blanket over ‘em so fast that I didn’t check.” In unison, the pair turned to watch the creature digging through the can of meat, ignoring them both whilst eating. Berwald narrowed his eyes at them, thinking. “He’s got a masculine jaw. Look at his eyes- he’s a man. But with his hair and figure-”

“He looks like he hasn’t eaten properly in years,” Søren breathed, transfixed at the sight of man. He hadn’t taken his eyes from the strange, silent man for one moment. As if on cue, the stranger glanced up, and Søren flinched at the intensity of his gaze as Berwald held his tongue. After a minute of staring at him, eyes filled with unease, the man returned to his meal. Søren inclined his head to Berwald, voice lower than before. “His hair threw me. He was in a fuckin’ _experiment_ , Ber.”

“Yeh don’t know that.” Søren tore his eyes away from the man to settle them on Berwald, looking unimpressed. In fairness, there wasn’t much he could use to explain away the trailing wires, gas mask discarded on the ground, or the odd container-type tub in the corner.

They’d came to clear up the house of a dead man, not find his pet experiment.

Berwald had walked into this room to find Søren being throttled by _something_ , a thin arm tight around his neck and dark eyes unflinching upon Berwald’s own. He’d barely paid attention to what he was saying- something along the lines of _'we don't mean any harm, please let him go, you'll kill him and break his mother's heart'_. After a long, tense moment of staring at him with inky blue eyes, the stranger had complied and dropped Søren to the ground, giving them both their first real sighting of the humanoid who they’d discovered. Afterwards, he made no move to hide his nudity with the blanket they provided, only curling up with a can of food as if it all was a typical event.

It didn’t distract from the tousled hair falling to his shoulders, gaunt figure, and complete silence.

(Søren claimed complete innocence, only saying that he’d been poking around the bookshelf before the creature had grabbed him from behind- apparently from the tub, and apparently not _quite_ brutal enough to kill him.)

“There’s somethin’ off about him.” Berwald unwrapped another piece of gum, gripping it between his teeth and muffling his tone further. “Somethin’ not…” He couldn’t think of a way to word his thoughts, and Søren filled the gap with a tense response.

“Something not human.” The Dane took a shuddering breath, and the fear in his eyes was clear. Then, he all but mumbled the phrase that had been lurking in Berwald’s mind from the beginning: “I don’t think he’s human at all.”

After his confession, there room was silent, save for their breathing and the clang of the knife on the metal can. The man- creature- was scraping the bottom of the tin, searching for the remains of food. He dropped the tin carelessly to the ground when none was to be found, and Søren tore a strip of skin from his thumb as he gnawed on it, watching him.

“Do you… want some more?” His voice was hesitant, hopeful even, but Berwald shook his head at his attempt.

“I don’t think he underst’nds yeh at all. I’m goin’ to grab my phone.” Pushing his chair back with a screech against the tile, Berwald stood and made for the door. “Shout if anythin’ goes-”

“Berwald.” Søren spoke in a sudden undertone, a quiet thrill livening his words. “He nodded at me.”

The Swede turned, eyebrows raised. The creature was gazing at Søren, motionless, and Søren was staring back in utter disbelief. “He nodded. I asked him if he wanted food, and he- _look_ , he’s doing it again!”

This time, Berwald saw the creature nod, dark eyes focused on Søren. Then- to the shock of them both- he stretched out a hand, palm flat, in a clear gesture of pleading. Berwald let out a long breath, shaking his head with a wry smile. “Didn’t expect that. Yeh better give ‘im somethin’.”

Søren scrambled to his feet, knocking over cans in his frantic search for something in date. The stranger watched him, head turning to follow his progress and hand still outstretched. Berwald stood by the door, arms folded and jaw working as he chewed on the gum and watched the scene. After a minute, Søren had found another can, and knelt a metre or two from the stranger. Slowly, he extended his arm, and offered the can to him.

As slow as Søren, the creature reached out and took the can from him, hugging it to his chest and refusing to tear his gaze from him.

“Yeh’ve made a friend,” Berwald muttered, watching Søren sit back with a sigh of relief. “He trusts yeh, even if just a little.” As he spoke, the man sawed into the can with vigour, and began digging into the contents to resume his eating. “Maybe yeh’re right. Maybe he hasn’t eaten properly in years.”

“Who knows what that guy was doing with him,” Søren muttered, sitting back into a more comfortable position. “I’m telling you, he was in some sort of experiment. Normal people don’t keep weird journals of observation and bathtubs filled with liquid and wires. He’s done something to him.”

“Unless we find somethin’, or he talks, we won’t find out.” Rubbing his jaw, Berwald tried to hold back another cough. He was only allowed to cough when others weren’t around, or out in the open. “We need to give him a name, or refer to him by somethin’.”

“True.” Tearing his eyes away, Søren stood and stretched. “I’m going to search the other room again, and try and find out what he is. Or, what happened to him, because _something_ did.”

“Probably.” Søren disappeared through the conjoining door, and Berwald allowed himself a quiet cough. The man looked up, startled at the sound, but slowly returned to eating when Berwald held up his hands, palms facing him. Søren had been right- his malnourished figure and unkempt hair gave him an androgynous look, only betrayed by his masculine features. Though masculine, he was beautiful in an ethereal sort of sense. True to their suspicions, he looked more spirit than human, and gave off an impression of elegance and grace even when eating. In almost no time, the second can was empty, and he turned imploring eyes to Berwald.

“We’ll wait for Søren to come back, alright?” He couldn’t be sure if the creature understood him at all, but didn’t want him to vomit due to excess eating. Whether understanding or not, he ignored Berwald. Standing on shaking legs, the man began to search through the shelves, and Berwald averted his eyes as the blanket slipped. Even if the man was unashamed by his nudity, Berwald didn’t have any interest in seeing his emaciated body.

As realisation hit him, Berwald’s head whipped around again as he stared at the man, open-mouthed. The man’s back was to him, hands and mind still occupied with searching for more food, and the smooth planes of his back clear for all to see.

The smooth skin was only interrupted by the gouged flesh by his tail bone, scarred in uneven ridges as if skin had been cut or carved away.

In that instant, Berwald knew that the man was the furthest thing from human he could imagine.

His frantic thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a strangled gasp from Søren. He turned, alarmed, in the direction of the other room, and the creature also glanced up in curiosity, pausing in his search. Søren’s shaking voice came through the door, and Berwald knew he was swallowing down bile as he tried to speak.

“Ber… you have to… oh, God. You have to see this.”

Berwald strode from the room, leaving the stranger staring after him with a growing frown. Søren was standing before what appeared to be a safe, face tinged green and hand covering his mouth. He gestured to it as Berwald approached, struggling to speak before giving up entirely. With a sense of dread, Berwald stood before the safe and crouched down, glancing inside with a deep breath. His fears were proved correct, and backed up by Søren’s agonised gasp as he stared, lost for words, at the severed tail in the safe.

“Berwald, he’s a _huldrekarl._ ”

They both whipped around at the patter of footsteps to meet the inquisitive expression of the huldrekarl himself. Directly behind them, he leaned past to peer into the fridge, clutching at another can of food. Both men recoiled as the huldrekarl blinked at his severed tail- and while Berwald was silent, Søren gasped for breath as if drowning in the realisation.

After staring at his own tail for one, long moment, the creature turned to look at both of them in turn. While unease stirred in his stomach and Søren’s face had blanched, the huldrekarl seemed eerily calm. Then, with an almost apologetic shrug, he turned and shuffled into the other room with his food.

Berwald stepped back just before Søren vomited where he had been standing.


	2. Chapter 2

_“You had one job,”_ he could imagine Berwald saying, tight-lipped and furious, _“one job. And now you've gone and lost him.”_

Søren doubted that the truth- losing the huldrekarl after being caught in daydreams about his identity- would appease Berwald.

“Huldrekarl...” Moving around the house and calling in a soft, sing-song tone seemed the best option. His first decision was to check the tub, to make sure the huldrekarl hadn't returned to it- and judging by the gas mask left absent on the side, he was either somewhere else or fantastic at holding his breath. Giving a huff, Søren left what he dubbed 'the experimentation room' to search for him elsewhere.

Strangely, he seemed calm around them both- maybe their offer of food, or their behaviour, had convinced him that he could trust them. After he'd been sick, Berwald had sent him off in disgrace, muttering about him being useless as he scrubbed the floor. Søren had entered the other room, and engaged himself in a stare-off with the huldrekarl sitting against the back wall.

He hadn't seemed violent, more curious; those dark eyes were serene, and at last he tore them from Søren to return to his third can of food. Søren had watched him, enraptured with the creature's movements.

He was a huldrekarl: that was certain. The hacked-off tail in the safe proved it, along with the odd way he carried himself. Something about him just _proved_ he wasn't human- maybe his disconcerting silence, or absurdly beautiful features. Indeed, he was more fairy than human, Søren had decided. Getting caught in his daydreams had meant closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall, and missing the huldrekarl quietly leaving the room.

At least Berwald didn't know that he'd lost him. _Yet._

The house they'd been sent to clear, and found the huldrekarl in, was tiny. There was only a few rooms- the kitchen, 'experiment room', living room, and bathroom were the ones he'd checked already, leaving the final room as the huldrekarl's hiding spot. If not, he'd be outside, and lost to the forest before they could hope to find him. Søren slowly pushed open the door, bracing himself for whatever he might find, or what would present itself to him.

Bizarrely, he found himself in a bedroom. It was more of a child's room than anything, really- the walls were a faded blue, and a thick blue comforter lay atop the single bed. In comparison to the foreboding atmosphere of the 'experiment room', this simply had an aura of sadness. The decorations were sparse, though drawings seem to be scrawled along the walls, ranging from the clumsy hand of a child to the smoother one of an adult. Søren would have investigated further, if a noise hadn't distracted him.

Humming. Something was humming a quiet, lonely tune, and the soft noises were coming from beneath the bed. There was only one thing that it could be and, swallowing, Søren took a seat on the floor. When he peered under, he came face-to-face with the huldrekarl beneath the bed, curled into himself with the blanket still draped loosely around him. The huldrekarl settled his eyes upon him, and abruptly stopped his humming.

“You don't have to stop,” he whispered, moving so as he could lie flat on his back. The huldrekarl was on his side, silent and watching him. “I liked the sound of it. You've got a nice tune there, you know. Does it calm you, humming?”

The huldrekarl, predictably, offered no reply. Instead, he resumed humming where he left off- and to Søren's immense relief, blinked once or twice while gazing at him. At least _that_ action was human-like. Søren felt himself smiling faintly at the habit, soothed himself by the huldrekarl's gentle melody.

When he trailed off, song over, Søren began to hum a new one himself. The huldrekarl raised his head, taken aback, but the Dane let his head rest on the ground and his eyes trail to the ceiling as he continued the low melody. It was something akin to a nursery rhyme, maybe one he'd picked up when his niece was a baby, or simply remembered from his long-ago childhood.

After a moment or two, he heard the huldrekarl join in; his melody was disjointed and cautious, but in tentative harmony with his.

When he finished, Søren remained lying where he was, eyes slid shut and jaw slack. Silence spread out between them, and he heard the sound of the huldrekarl shifting. Then, a hand settled against his cheek, and at the feeling of the sharp nails he jerked, eyes flying open to meet the creature's. He'd yanked his hand back, clutching it against his chest, and his own eyes were full of fear; fear of Søren.

He'd been trying to touch Søren's face.

“I'm sorry,” Søren murmured, voice as low as he could make it. “I was too quick- you just scared me. You can touch it, if you want.” When the huldrekarl didn't move, he reached out and grasped his hand, bringing it to his face despite the creature's squirms. “Go on. You can touch my face.”

The huldrekarl's fingers hovered over his face, shaking slightly as he deliberated. When Søren closed his eyes again, he finally moved. The Danish man could feel the tips of the huldrekarl's fingers ghosting over his cheek, feeling the ridge of his cheekbone and curve of his jaw. It seemed that, this time, he was being deliberately gentle and avoiding scraping Søren's face with his nails.

As time went on, he grew more adventurous, and a soft hand trailed over the bridge of his nose; hollow of his eye socket; rough, sharp chin that needed shaving; and finally to his hair, pushing fingers through the messy clumps with gentle care. Søren smiled at the action, and felt the huldrekarl move down to trace the outline of his lips in wonderment.

When he opened his eyes, the huldrekarl had returned to his position beneath the bed, eyes as focused on him as ever. Now, though, he didn't regard Søren with quite as much apprehension as before, and he realised that he'd gained the huldrekarl's trust. He'd probably never felt someone else's face before, or even seen a different human other than those deliberately introduced to him. As if on cue, the huldrekarl reached up to feel his own face, the tips of his fingers running from his cheeks to his nose and back again. Søren grinned at his frown, and the huldrekarl glanced up at him when he spoke. “We're not so different, are we?”

The creature stared at him, hands still upon his face. He blinked, and then reached out to Søren, hand shaking. The Danish man stared at him, not daring to breath when fingers closed around his wrist, and felt the huldrekarl tugging his arm gently towards him. The stranger took hold of his hand and placed it over his own face, thumb pressing into the palm and manipulating it so Søren's hand was curved around his cheek. Those dark eyes dragged up to meet his own, and Søren let out his breath in a long sigh.

It was Søren's turn to stroke the huldrekarl's face. His thumb smoothed the dark shadows beneath the creature's eye, then moved to trail down his thin nose and feel the sharp curve. Those cheekbones felt as sharp as knives, though the pearly skin of his cheek was surprisingly soft, and his thin lips parted when Søren swiped the tip of his finger over them. The huldrekarl's eyes were glued to him, breathing shallow, and he reached up to take hold of Søren's hand again. For a moment, Søren let his hand still on the huldrekarl's cheek, and came to the sudden realisation that the huldrekarl wasn't as threatening as he first appeared. The hand atop his, deliberately gentle despite the sharp nails, was proof of that.

“See?” Søren whispered, a smile curving his mouth. “Not so different after all.”

His hand slipped down to his side, feeling the dusty carpet beneath his fingertips once more. The huldrekarl slid both hands under his head as a makeshift pillow as he continued to watch him in that intrigued way, nibbling on his lower lip and roving his eyes over him. Feeling bold, Søren asked the question that had been burning upon his tongue.

“What's your name?” At the huldrekarl's blank look, he sighed. “You must have a name. That old geezer never give you one?” The huldrekarl continued his silence; whether due to the inability to speak or fear to, Søren didn't know. “I'll think of one for you, if we don't find it out first. We can't keep calling you _him_ or _huldrekarl_. It's not that nice, is it? I mean, you're a huldrekarl, but that doesn't mean you're not a person.”

Leaving the statement hanging, Søren rolled over and clambered to his feet. Traipsing around the room, he opened and examined the contents of the bulky wardrobe which sulked in the corner. There was several articles hanging there- and a photo, of all things, pinned to the door. Finding a thick jumper, he pulled it from its hanger and walked back to the bed. Kneeling down, he offered it to the huldrekarl, eyes focused on the back wall. Nothing happened for a moment, until bony hands tugged the jumper from his grip.

Satisfied, Søren returned to searching the room. It was a dreary place, but it was somewhere the huldrekarl may have slept. The bed _did_ seemed the right size for his small figure; that wasn't as barbaric as keeping him in the tub full of liquid the entire time, surely? Moving over to the pictures on the wall, Søren frowned at them. The majority of them were animals: an elongated octopus surrounded by a shoal of fish; two cats, an adult and kitten, curled together and sleeping; a procession of puffins of varying sizes. Above the animals, scratched into the wall by what was surely a child's hand was a picture of two human-likes: one tall, the other short, and smiling as they held hands.

They had tails, too. Huldrekarl tails- and when he glanced upwards, found uneven lettering above it.

_Me and my brother._

A sense of unease arose in his stomach, and Søren crossed to the wardrobe's photo again in search of some answers. The photo itself was old and weathered, but he could see what seemed to be his new friend as a teenager, sombre faced and miserable.

That wasn't what gripped Søren's attention. Instead, his eyes were drawn to the sleeping, white-haired baby the huldrekarl had clutched to his chest, face almost obscured by the blanket wrapped around it. Staring uneasily at the camera, eyebrows drawn together in a suspicious frown, every part of his figure seemed both protective and threatened.

A shuffling noise distracted him from his new, worrying suspicions. The huldrekarl was clambering out from under the bed, blanket forgotten in favour of his new jumper. Though medium sized, it was huge on his tiny frame, and a smile found its way onto Søren's face at the right shoulder slipping down. The huldrekarl looked unimpressed, fingers plucking at the thick material with a disparaging expression. As Søren turned to meet him, he pulled the picture from the door and jammed it into his pocket, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“Now I've found you, do you want to go and see Berwald? We can get more food if you want, and I could try and brush out your hair.” His eyes slid to the huldrekarl's tangled, shoulder-length mane, and he wrinkled his noise. “I think you need all of it cut off.”

The huldrekarl wasn't listening. He was still staring at the doorway, fingers running over the hem of the jumper as if Søren hadn't said a word.

To his surprise and relief, the huldrekarl willingly followed him. Berwald was waiting for them in the front room, arms folded and foot tapping on the ground, and raised his eyebrows when he saw the huldrekarl standing quietly at Søren's side. “Made a friend, Søren? 'Bout time.”

“Ah, shut up.” Waving him away, Søren settled himself on one of the armchairs, stretching and yawning. Berwald took the other armchair with a smile, and the huldrekarl moved to recline on the window seat, staring out at the forest beyond. “I think he trusts me. It's better than trying to kill me. He, um...” Søren thought for a moment, wondering how exactly to word the events of before. “He wanted to feel my face, so I let him. I don't think he's ever met other people before. He took my hand, too, and made me feel his face. I think it was comforting to him- do you think that man was ever kind to him, or comforted him?”

“Probably not.” Berwald surveyed him, face a mask of serenity and lips twitching. “The only person yeh can get t'befriend you is a mythical creature missin' their tail.”

“While you can't get the Finnish girl in the store to notice you,” Søren snapped, unamused. “I'm trying to be kind to him. God knows, someone has to. At least _I_ won't cut off part of his body and torture him. Who the hell even does that?”

“Yeh seem to care 'bout him,” Berwald remarked, cleaning his glasses on the end of his shirt as he spoke. “Sympathy, I 'spose.”

“You think?” Søren's eyes drifted to the huldrekarl, quietly observing the outside world. “I feel sorry for him. Who knows what's happened to him? I don't want to find out, but at the same time, I don't want him to be hurt more. It's just care, plain and simple, Ber. I just- want him to be safe.”

“'Course yeh do.” The Swede's eyes settled upon the photo jammed into Søren's pocket, and he frowned at it. “What's that?”

“Oh...” Søren pulled it out, glancing towards the huldrekarl again. When satisfied that he was enraptured with the forest, Søren beckoned Berwald over and held the photograph out to him. “Take a look at this. Do either of them look familiar?”

Berwald accepted the photo, scrutinising it. He glanced over to the huldrekarl, then back at the photo, and finally back to Søren again. “The kid's him. Least, I think he is. The baby?”

“I don't know.” Søren took the photograph back, staring at it himself. “I don't get it. The baby looks like him, though- look at their features. That wasn't the only thing- there were pictures on the wall, labelled 'me and my brother'. Surely that means something? I doubt it's an imaginary friend, or-”

They turned in unison as the huldrekarl slipped off of the window seat and moved towards them, blinking as he faced the dim light of the room. His eyes were drawn to the photograph, and he frowned slightly, creasing his pretty features. The platinum-haired creature moved to stand beside Søren, and the Dane twisted the photograph around to let the huldrekarl see.

When he realised there were no movement beside him, he glanced up to meet the wide, shocked eyes of the huldrekarl, focused on the photo in his hands. “Hey, are you-?”

The huldrekarl snatched the photo from Søren, holding it up to his eyes and squinting desperately at it. Søren raised himself from his chair and watched his expression move from disbelief; to horror; and finally crumple, a sob shaking his whole body.

“ _Søren_ ,” Berwald warned, voice low, but Søren reached out to grasp the huldrekarl's shoulder. In one movement, the huldrekarl leant into him, head pressed to the Danish man's chest as tears began to trickle down his cheeks and his shoulders shook with sobs. No sound came from the man, and Søren tentatively stroked his back, feeling the huldrekarl press against him.

“What is it? Is it the boy? What's wrong?” When the huldrekarl didn't move, Søren tilted his chin up to get a look at his face as he blinked and did nothing to wipe away his tears. “Who is the boy in the photo? Please don't cry- here-”

The huldrekarl didn't protest when Søren took the photo from him and held it against his chest, putting it at eye level with him. Instead, he raised a hand and pointed to himself, and then at the photograph. When Søren stared at him, confused, the huldrekarl repeated his actions- jabbing a finger at himself, and then at the photo. His eyes flitted up to meet Søren's wide blue ones before dragging back to the baby's picture, as if unable to tear his eyes away.

Søren turned his head to meet Berwald. The Swede seemed utterly confused, and his eyes flicked between Søren and the still-crying huldrekarl. “What's wrong? Why is he so upset, Søren?”

“I think...” Søren said slowly, eyes moving to the photo and taking a deep, steadying breath. “I think he's trying to tell us that he's lost the baby- he's lost his little brother.”


	3. Chapter 3

“We have to destroy _everything_. No one can know he was here, all right?”

“One step ahead of yeh.” Berwald was clearing the contents of the shelves into the plastic bags, leaving nothing remaining with his quick movements. “Ah'll take these an' burn them somewhere in the woods- or keep 'em and read 'em, whatever. What're yeh goin' to do with the tub?”

“Empty and clean it. It'll look like a normal tub by the end,” Søren muttered, gingerly reaching out to pull the plug. The liquid began to clear and he grimaced, grabbing the wipes Berwald offered and beginning to scrub at the stains. “We found the dead man, cleaned the house, and that was it. Nothing else. Now we're going to visit my sister for a week or two, and take a break from work- we're only temps anyway, they won't care. Sound good?”

“Best it could be.” The Swede straightened, finally facing Søren properly. “It's crazy, but there's nothin' else we could do. He can't look after himself, an' the food here's gonna run out soon- it looks like he could barely find it 'imself t'begin wih. If the authorities found out, he'd go into some testin' facility. Bleedin' hearts, really.”

“Yeah.” Leaving the bath alone, Søren let out a shaky breath, pulling off one of his gloves and running a hand through his hair. “Where is he? Still in the back room?”

Berwald nodded, tying the bags closed. He was wearing a concerned, anxious frown, and Søren knew he was struggling with what to do. Anyone would, if they were faced with hiding a huldrekarl. “Still lookin' at the picture, too. Stopped cryin', though. It's his brother. Has to be.”

“Which makes me wonder how we're going to find him. I don't _think_ he's dead, but there's no sign of him here- or any indication that he's still alive.” Søren bit his lip, tasting blood, and pulled his glove back on. He resumed cleaning the tub, ripping some wires from the wall and stowing them in the bag simultaneously as he tried to ignore the huldrekarl's tears. If he was crying, surely something awful had happened to his brother? “Judging by the photo, the kid has to be five or six now. I'll listen to those tapes; they might have some clue. You check to make sure he's all right and isn't hungry, and get all these bags into your van. That okay?”

“Fine.” Berwald eyed him for a moment, then picked up the bags with both hands. “I never expected t'adopt a creature that isn't s'pposed to exist t'day. What's goin' to happen with his tail?”

“God, I don't know. I don't want to touch it. We'll figure that out when we leave. If we clean everything properly and take his research, they'll have no clue he was here.” At Søren's words, Berwald nodded and left. Søren was left alone, and his eyes were drawn to the tape recorder in the corner. The walls were mottled grey, the room stinking of damp covered up by some sketches of anatomy, and the fine layer of dust upon the recorder was only disturbed by the fingerprints he'd left an hour before.

At the sound of a man's voice soothing what he later realised what the huldrekarl, followed by the huldrekarl's screams as _something_ was done to him, Søren had hastily abandoned the tapes thanks to the bile rising in his voice. Berwald had ignored the things completely. It wasn't that he wanted to listen to them: in fact, he loathed the thought of what was no doubt further recordings of the poor thing being tortured. But they could reveal who he was. They could give the location of his brother. They could give his _name_.

When the room was eventually clean, almost pristine in nature and without a fingerprint or hair to be found, Søren swept the recorder and tapes into his bag and turned his back on the room of the huldrekarl's torment.

He found that Berwald had the rest of the house completely cleared: tins gone, blood cleared, every room utterly free of evidence. His friend always had a knack of doing the job perfectly. The Swede in question was outside, van parked in front of the house, and was unsuccessfully trying to coax the huldrekarl into the car. Though his voice and gestures were as gentle as he could manage, the huldrekarl was crouched on the ground outside, steadfastly refusing to get in.

“Your way with children doesn't extend to our friend here, then?” At Søren's call, they both raised their heads in his direction- Berwald seemed merely irritated at his smugness, but the huldrekarl rose to a standing position, wobbling slightly on thin legs. Søren grinned at him, walking over slowly until he was standing at least a metre from the creature. “It's okay. We're going back to Berwald's house, and we need to get you in the van to drive there.” His eyes drifted to the photo still clutched in the huldrekarl's hand, and he pointed at it, voice kind. “We're going to try and find him. The boy in the picture- your brother? We're going to help you find him.”

The creature stared at him, expression unchanging. Søren couldn't be sure if he understood him or even heard him properly, but he never had the opportunity to find out.

Instead, at the low, mournful keening sound from inside the nearby forest, the huldrekarl's pupils dilated in terror. Before Søren or Berwald could move, he threw himself into the back of the vehicle, almost knocking Berwald over in his haste to scramble in and squeeze himself under one of the chairs. While Berwald moved to calm him, Søren turned to the forest, trying to search out what had scared the creature. Somehow, he had the impression that his eyes wouldn't be able to make it out.

“Ah think,” Berwald said quietly, patting the huldrekarl's hair as he shook with fear, “that he'd prefer the van to whatever's in th'woods.”

Søren bit his lip until he tasted blood once more. That noise hadn't been from an animal. Whatever it was, he didn't want to find out what it was, and why the huldrekarl was so petrified.

“House's clear. Let's get outta here.” Berwald stepped back, leaving the creature and hoisting himself into the driver's seat instead. Contrary to riding shotgun, Søren clambered into the back instead, and reached under the seats to drag the huldrekarl out. He was quite sure that he was bitten in the struggle that followed, but didn't let go until the huldrekarl, kicking and squirming, was pressed into the seat beside him. Wide, nervous eyes focused on him, and Søren tried to keep his voice as calm as possible.

“We're going to keep you safe. We're leaving now, okay? Whatever's in that forest isn't going to hurt you, not while we're around. Now let me put your seatbelt on, so you don't get hurt if Berwald hits a tree again.”

Gradually, the creature calmed from frantic to docile. He allowed Søren to belt him into his seat, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees once the Dane was finished. The huldrekarl was still breathing heavily, and didn't object to Søren wrapping a blanket around him. After starting and clutching to the seat when Berwald started the van, he settled down, eventually moving to lie across the back seats with his head in Søren's lap.

Meeting Berwald's incredulous eyes in the overhead mirror, Søren swallowed heavily, fingers moving to push the huldrekarl's over-long hair from his eyes with shaky motions. It seemed that, in an unsettlingly short time, the huldrekarl had decided to trust him.

His eyes moved again to the dark forest behind them, and didn't look away until it was out of his sight.

* * *

“Look- he hasn't got any body hair.” Gently lifting the huldrekarl's leg from the bath water, Søren ran his palm along his skin, feeling its smoothness. “It's either downy or completely non-existent. Weird, isn't it? Guess that explains why he hasn't got a beard.”

“His hair makes up for it.” Pulling a face, Berwald scrubbed at the huldrekarl's hair with the shampoo again, and the creature winced at the sensation. “It's completely ruined- he needs it all cut.”

“Yeah, he does- be more gentle!” Søren ordered, seeing the huldrekarl's miserable expression. “It must be sensitive, so don't act like you're trying to rip his hair out.” Berwald glowered at him and muttered something about tangles, but the huldrekarl glanced up at him and blinked gratefully. Grinning, Søren went back to scrubbing his legs. “I bet this must be nice for him, huh? At least he'll be more comfortable when he's clean. Look how _pale_ he is!”

Berwald moved his hand to the huldrekarl's shoulder, wiping the suds away and peering at his skin through foggy glasses. “'S like paper. He looks unhealthy- mustn’t have been outside too much.”

“I don't think he ever left that house,” the Dane confessed lowly, moving to pick up the huldrekarl's other leg and clean it. “Poor thing had no life, I bet. D'you see all his scars? Look, there's some on the insides of his legs-” When he tried to run his finger along them, the huldrekarl kicked out suddenly, and Søren recoiled back and dropped his leg as if burnt, meeting the creature's dark and wary eyes. It hadn't been violent- rather, _defensive_. “Sorry, sorry- I don't think he likes that. I'll, um- he can clean himself from the knees up, can't he?”

“That'd be for th'best.” Moving his gaze from the huldrekarl to Søren and exhaling deeply, Berwald briefly patted the creature's head. “His hair's clean. Run and get some towels from the airin' cupboard, will yeh?”

When Søren stood and left quickly, the huldrekarl's eyes followed him out the door before slipping back to Berwald uneasily. The Swede attempted a smile- which was more likely a grimace- and handed him a bath sponge, which he accepted and stared at curiously. “Yeh can wash yerself with that. It's alrigh', he's comin' back. Yeh like him, don't you?”

The huldrekarl offered no response, eyes turned away from him, and Berwald pulled off his glasses to clean them on the end of his shirt as the huldrekarl shifted in the water and awaited the return of the Dane.

Twenty minutes later- after draining the bath and towel drying his long, tangled hair- a vastly different individual emerged. His hair turned out to be a pale, almost platinum blond, and his skin was indeed pearly-white, set off by his fine features and slender figure. _Slender_ was a kind way to describe the bones jutting out from his chest and face, and required a raid of Berwald's wardrobe.

“The next thing to do is probably listen to the tapes.” Søren pulled a face at his own words, watching the huldrekarl pull the trousers up to his chest with a puzzled expression. “Berwald, he's practically swimming in your clothes! You're head and shoulders taller than him, and he probably weighs less than my niece does.”

“I might've known you'd mention Agda at some point t'day.” Berwald huffed, passing the huldrekarl another, smaller pair of trousers. These ones, miraculously, stopped midway at his ribcage, and made him look ever more elf-like. “How is she?”

“Adorable, as usual,” he replied dreamily, chin propped up on his palm at the thought of his beloved niece. “Completely spoiled by her Uncle Søren, of course. Helga said she'd bring her round for a visit soon- she keeps telling me that I should settle down and have some kids of my own, completely ignoring the fact that reproduction between two men doesn't tend to work out.”

Berwald snorted with laughter, sorting through his drawers of clothes in search of something to fit the new house guest. Søren looked over at the huldrekarl standing amidst a pile of rejected clothes, looking forlorn at the activity. Still, even though he was clad only in underwear precariously close to slipping past his narrow hips, he definitely looked better than he had before.

“We better just give 'im a sweater and underwear.” Søren tore his eyes away from him to see Berwald sit back with a sigh, holding a blue, heavy knit jumper. “It'll keep 'im warm, and socks too- it's all we can do, until we find somethin' better, or Ah can sew somethin'.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Passing the items to the huldrekarl turned out to be amusing for the two men. After brief confusion over what to do with the socks, the huldrekarl dressed in Berwald's clothes, and emerged with the hem of the jumper at mid-thigh and sleeves he had to yank back, and socks that reached mid-shin. Still, he seemed pleased enough despite Berwald and Søren's protests, and disappeared downstairs in what was probably another search for food. The two followed, knowing full well that leaving the huldrekarl alone meant risking all the food in the house.

While Søren watched him devour a six-egg omelette with undisguised fascination, Berwald took the bags grabbed from the house and disposed of them outside.

They unanimously agreed, with the huldrekarl's shrug taken as consent, to burn the severed tail.

With the bonfire's embers dying away, Berwald was making coffee- and debating on whether to make some for the huldrekarl- when the front door opened, and a bright voice came down the hallway.

“Berwald, are you here? You said your shifts finished at two, so I thought I'd call over and-”

Both men threw themselves into the hallway at the same time, pushing the other out of the way in a fight to see who the visitor was. To Søren's great surprise, the visitor turned out to be someone he didn't expect: a young woman with wide hips, soft features, and violet eyes wide in alarm at the sight of them.

“-bring your coat,” she finished, blinking at them both. “You left it the last time I saw you. Are you okay?”

Søren was unsure of whether to panic about Berwald's friend catching sight of the huldrekarl, or laugh at the horrified look on Berwald's face, so embarrassed was he at the object of his affections standing before him. To make matters worse, the girl smiled so sweetly at him that the Swede seemed unable to form a proper sentence.

“Tiina- nice t'see yeh-” he gasped, pushing a sniggering Søren out of the way. Tiina's gaze moved to both of them, curiosity evident in her eyes at their struggle. “Didn't expect t'see yeh-”

“Well, no, I wasn't planning on calling over,” Tiina admitted, laughing somewhat nervously and tucking pale hair behind her ears. “It was a sudden decision. I hope you don't mind me intruding like this, not when you've got a friend here!”

Berwald's coughing was no doubt the result of him swallowing his gum.

“Søren Andersen.” He thrust his hand out, offering it for the Finn to shake. “I work at the bank, except Berwald needed me for today. We're just clearing a few things out in the garden- stuff for his work, you know-”

The blood in his veins froze at the tugging on his arm, and he looked down to see the huldrekarl beside him, holding onto him and looking between him and Tiina with a confused, wary expression. Of _course_ he'd wonder why they ran off, _of course_ he'd want to find out what was happening- Søren cursed himself for not thinking, utterly at a loss for what to do. Likewise, Berwald was looking between them and Tiina, face flushed.

Tiina, too, seemed unnerved at the sudden appearance of the huldrekarl, and her eyes moved from his unusual clothing, to long hair, to strange stance before turning to Berwald, voice tentative. “Berwald, who-?”

Søren and Berwald glanced at one another, and came to a decision almost simultaneously. The Swede moved to stand in front of the doorway, blocking it, and Tiina's eyes widened in fear at their dark expressions. “What's happening?” Her voice was thin and reedy, and Søren knew that Berwald was cursing the huldrekarl for the interruption.

“Tiina, you _cannot_ tell anyone about this.” Staring her in the eye, Søren motioned to the figure beside him. “No one can find out about him, you hear? One word about this and we're dead, and our friend here is carted off for testing. Understand?”

Tiina nodded hastily, eyes darting between them and never settling on one face for too long. Somehow, Søren had the impression that she'd probably put up one hell of a fight if she decided to try and escape. “Yes. I get it. But what's happening? Who is he? … _what_ is he? He's not human, is he?”

Berwald pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. This wasn't how he wanted a meeting with Tiina to go- the Finn terrified, Søren intimidating, and a damn _huldrekarl_ in the way. “No. He's not human. We were cleanin' a house in the woods today an' found him.” Waiting for Tiina to digest his information, Berwald offered a prayer to the gods that she wouldn't freak out at his next words. “...he's a huldrekarl.”

The Finnish woman took this surprisingly well. Instead of panicking, she simply crossed her arms and snorted in derision. “If he's a huldrekarl, where's his tail?”

“Cut off,” Søren supplied helpfully, causing them to turn to him, “by whoever lived there beforehand. That's why he _kind_ of looks human- we think the person was experimenting on him.” Tiina's eyes narrowed, and Søren sighed, gently tugging at the quiet huldrekarl until his back was to Tiina. Glancing up into violet eyes, Søren pulled up the back of the sweater, exposing the huldrekarl's back to them as the creature amused himself with tugging at the Dane's hair.

Tiina's strangled gasp was confirmation that she believed them. The tears springing to her eyes and anguished ramblings was confirmation that she was going to cry over the huldrekarl's plight. “The poor _thing!_ What sick fuck would do that? Poor, poor huldrekarl- does he have a name? Where's he going to be living? You only found him _today?_ I think I have some licorice in my bag- do you think he'll like it? His clothes are too big- what were you thinking?! I might have something that would fit him- better my clothes than your huge ones-”

That was how, to Berwald's relief and Søren's tired resignation, the Finnish woman who worked in the local IKEA store joined them in hiding a mute huldrekarl in a suburban house.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Subject Two cries fitfully and incessantly when separated from Subject One. Subject One is similarly distressed, and has broken three fingers in attempts to escape and find him. Upon being reunited, Subject One checks Subject Two for injuries, then retreats under the bed to hum and calm him to sleep.”_

Søren took another swig of his coffee, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Above his earphones, he could hear raised voices from the living room as Tiina attempted to find something that would fit the huldrekarl.

Their huldrekarl. Subject One.

He returned to the recording with a heavy heart, full of dread and foreboding at what was waiting for him, and with a new fury at the man who’d so callously viewed them as mere experiments.

“ _While Subject Two functions like a normal human toddler, Subject One maintains a careful lack of emotion. His own food is nearly entirely given to Subject Two, and the two sleep together, One’s back to the door and Two against his chest. While holding distrust in me, he occasionally accepts kind gestures- food, blankets, or music being played- for Subject Two, though refuses to leave Two alone, if at all possible.”_

Søren snorted at the mention of ‘kind gestures’. It was more than just his sudden loyalty to the huldrekarl that he doubted him leading a happy life, but he’d gleaned something useful: the huldrekarl liked music. That explained the humming; it was calming to him, and seemingly to his little brother. The Danish man made a mental note to remember it in future. While he couldn’t trust Berwald’s music tastes, he had to have some classical CDs of his own.

Abruptly, the tape descended into static, before picking up again to a somewhat different setting. Instead of the huldrekarl’s guardian speaking alone, this recording had the sound of heavy breathing and whimpers of pain.

“ _It’s quite all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”_ It was the man speaking again, voice slow and with the tone of someone speaking to a frightened animal. Søren was frozen in his chair, struck by horror, but the next voice made his jaw drop.

“ _No, please- it hurts, please don’t do it, please stop, I don’t want you to do it-”_

It wasn’t the older man speaking. Instead, with a thrill of both excitement and fear, Søren realised that he was hearing the huldrekarl’s voice for the first time- young and high, a gentle accent clipping each word. So he _could_ speak, but Søren didn’t want to hear him speak in that kind of voice: garbled and stretched as thin as a wire with pain and fear-

“ _There’s no need to get upset. This is for your own good, you know.”_ Still the man kept up with his slow voice, but he sighed heavily. To the Dane, he sounded like some sort of father figure, yet every cold, exasperated word made him uncomfortable. _“If you really don’t want it done, then that’s okay. I’ll restitch Emil’s back instead, to check it’s even-”_

“ _No!”_ the huldrekarl ground out, new force filtering into his voice. _“Don’t hurt Emil- you don’t have to do anything to him! You’ve got me, you don’t need him- you can do what you want, just leave him alone-”_

Søren covered his mouth with a hand, fighting the urge to vomit. The huldrekarl’s ramblings continued for a good minute until he descended into silence, panting and struggling to breathe. Then the man spoke again, and there was satisfaction in every syllable he spoke.

“ _There’s a good boy.”_

The tape was forgotten, earphones discarded on the table and the huldrekarl’s screams ringing through them as Søren heaved into the sink. Eyes searing and choking, he sought out a cloth and dragged it across his mouth, wiping the bile from his face as his shoulders shook. Through his own horror and deep, shuddering breaths, he’d managed to learn three things-

First; their huldrekarl had spoken before, and may still have the ability to speak.

Second; the younger huldrekarl, the brother of theirs, had a _name._ He was called Emil.

Third; the older huldrekarl was devoted to the younger, and allowed himself to be injured in the child’s place.

Forcing himself to walk in a straight line, Søren moved back to the table and switched off the tape recorder. Then, resolving to burn the damn thing whenever possible, he left to find his other companions, stomach churning and mind haunted.

* * *

“He looks better now, doesn’t he?” Tiina declared, standing back with a grin and surveying the huldrekarl with pride. “At least my clothes fit him better than yours do, Berwald. I’ll get some for him tonight, so he doesn’t have to wear my ones, or two belts!”

Søren and Berwald remained silent in their judgement. The huldrekarl was even less interested: after scanning the shirt and jeans hanging off of his frame and tugging absently at his short, neat ponytail, he ambled off to examine the bookcase. Tiina turned to them, eyebrows raised and voice lower than before, despite the huldrekarl’s obvious distraction with other matters. “Berwald told me about him. Do you know what you’re going to do, Søren?”

“Well. One of us is going to have to look after him, and something tells me that it’s going to be me.” Søren felt the need to defend himself at their subsequent stares- Berwald’s with narrowed eyes, Tiina’s with curiosity. “What else can we do? We’ve been through this, Berwald- he can’t look after himself, and he was never taught how. He’ll be shipped off to some testing facility if anyone finds out what he is. He needs someone to care for him. Is there any other option?”

“Nah. But yeh don’t _know_ him, Søren.” Berwald was the stern oppression to his suggestions, even though he _knew_ there wasn’t anything else they could do with the huldrekarl, and Søren found himself loathing Berwald’s lingering suspicion of the huldrekarl.

“We’ll get him therapy- if I have to pay for it, I’ll pay. You know I’ve been saving for years.” Søren was pulling at straws, tugging his hair in anxiety, but Tiina piped up in a suddenly eager voice.

“My cousin’s a therapist! I could explain things to her- she’ll keep it quiet, but she could help him! You’ll need someone professional to help him, even if… well.” Tiina swallowed, and tried again, eyes darting to the huldrekarl. “Even if what he’s experienced isn’t normal.”

“That’s good. Thanks, Tiina.” The Dane chewed on his lip, thinking hard. “She can help, even when he can’t- or won’t- talk?”

“I don’t see why not. She’s had mute patients before, and surely she can do _something_ positive for him. Elizabeta will probably reduce the fees for family, too.” She offered Søren a smile, either missing or disregarding the impressed look crossing Berwald’s features. “He trusts you, doesn’t he? That’s a good start.”

“He’s slept with his head on Søren’s lap,” Berwald offered, shrugging slightly. “On th’way here. Followed him ‘bout, too, an’ let us both wash him. He’s more curious than violent. I think-”

“-I think he’s only scared around that man he was with before,” Søren finished the sentence, meeting Berwald’s eyes for confirmation. “He panicked when he first saw us, but he didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t try to attack you, Tiina, so that’s a positive. He’s not human, but he’s not a killer or monster, is he? He’s just been cut off for so long, and he could pass for a human with normal clothing- an absurdly pretty one, mind you. It doesn’t matter that he’s a huldrekarl- he’s still a person, isn’t he?”

“A person,” Tiina said quietly, watching the huldrekarl moving around the room, “that’s lost all of his fight. Do you think he attacked you with the intention to kill?”

They watched the huldrekarl after Tiina spoke. He’d found a book that had caught his eye, and was sitting on the window seat with it open on his lap, frowning and flicking through the pages. From his movements, Søren guessed that he was looking at the pictures and skimming the text rather than properly reading. The Dane spoke slowly, eyes still fixed on the huldrekarl.

“No. It was defence. He grabbed me and held me by the neck, but it was more- it was more like a _shield_ against Berwald. His arm wasn’t in a proper position to hurt me, and he was shaking- he let me go almost right away. I’m telling you Tiina, he means no harm. It’s that man he lived with that he was scared of. He probably thought I was him when he heard the footsteps.”

“Hmm.” Tiina was also staring at the huldrekarl, face creased in pity as she shifted from foot to foot. “He’ll need therapy for whatever that man did to him, but I don’t think he’s dangerous. He seems-” The Finnish woman stopped suddenly, lips curving in an amused smile. “He seems like he’s more concerned with eating than hurting anyone. The only way he’s going to hurt you is by raiding your fridge and eating all the best stuff.”

Berwald laughed softly at her words, and Søren instead turned to the huldrekarl. Walking over, he perched beside him, leaning over slightly to take a look at the book. To his surprise and delight, it was a book of H.C. Andersen’s fairy tales- strange that _Berwald_ , with his bad interior design and obsession with woodwork, should have such an impressive book in his collection. The huldrekarl looked up at him, blinking in the light, and stared Søren in the eye with his unsettling intensity as Søren spoke.

“You haven’t been reading it, have you?” The huldrekarl offered no response, and Søren held his hands out, palms flat. “Can I read something to you? I bet you’ll love some of these stories if you hear them. How about it?” He could’ve left the reading to him, but some part of him, some unknown part, wanted to read to him. He wanted a _connection._

Often, he wondered if the huldrekarl truly understood him, what with his times of no reaction. On this occasion, it seemed that he did, and carefully passed the book to Søren, breaking his stare to instead glance down at the book. Søren grinned in delight, a small, bitter voice in the back of his mind lamenting the huldrekarl’s constant silence.

“I’ll find something nice- a lot of what he writes is sad. Let me see…” As he dragged the tip of his finger down the list of contents, the huldrekarl shifted to let his head rest on his shoulder, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. “How about _The Ugly Duckling_? That’s one of my favourites, _and_ it has a happy ending.”

As Berwald and Tiina quietly left the room, Søren felt the huldrekarl nod. Smiling slightly, he flipped to the first page and began reading, feeling the huldrekarl’s eyelashes brush his neck in a feather-light movement.

“It was glorious out in the country. It was summer, and the cornfields were yellow, and the oats were green; the hay had been put up in stacks in the green meadows, and the stork went about on his long red legs and chattered Egyptian…”

* * *

“We need to call you _something_. Jens? Do you like Jens? What about Mads?” The huldrekarl seemed to ignore Tiina’s gentle questioning and instead twisted his hair around one long finger, eyes following a fly across the room.

“If I’d a son, I’d call him Mads,” Søren mused, twisting the tea towel around his hands. “Mads Andersen- or give him Mads as a middle name. It’s just about the best name.”

“Kristian?” Tiina continued hopefully, as if uninterrupted, “Magnus? Valentin is nice. Any suggestions, Berwald?” The Swede glanced over as Tiina addressed him, frowning slightly.

“Axel.”

“Your names are all terrible,” Søren offered helpfully, drying the dishes Berwald had stacked as the two glared at him. “Not terrible as in they’re _bad_ names, but they don’t suit him. I mean, does he look like an Axel, Berwald?” He cocked his eyebrows at his friend, and was met with a blank stare in response.

“Obviously. Why else would Ah have suggest’d it?”

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe because your taste in everything else sucks?”

“Still, we have to think of something,” Tiina said hastily, aware of the two men glowering at each other. “I’m a little bit uncomfortable having nothing to call him. Are you absolutely sure there was no evidence of something with his name written down in the house?”

“Nah.” Berwald returned to washing the dishes, slow and precise in his movements. “The tapes might have somethin’.”

“I hope so.” The huldrekarl had stared to examine his long toes, and the Finnish woman giggled to himself at the sight. “I like Lars, um- huldrekarl. Do you? How about Nikolai?”

Tiina was interrupted in her musings by the sound, yet again, of the front door. At the raised voices, they all glanced up, but only Søren froze at the clear sound of a child’s voice.

“Come in through here, Agda, and see if he’s- oh, there you are, Søren!” A blond woman appeared in the doorway, grinning at the Dane with tendrils of hair escaping from her ponytail as she pulled a young girl alone with her. “We tried your house first, since I know that you don’t work today, but I thought you’d be here. Hello, Berwald- and Tiina, isn’t it?” She turned to the huldrekarl next, blinking and offering him a smile. “Can’t say I know you, though.”

“He’s a friend,” Berwald said smoothly- or as smoothly as he could muster with a tense voice and flushed face. “Doesn’t talk much. Coffee, Helga?”

Tiina followed them, throwing Søren a tense look and immediately engaging Helga in vapid conversation about the local weather forecast. The Dane was, however, distracted by the girl hugging his knees as he tried to regulate his breathing. “Hey, Agda. How’s my little princess?”

His sister and niece were in Berwald’s house, in the very room where a huldrekarl was, who Agda was now staring at as she hung onto his legs. “I’m good. Who’s he?”

“A friend,” Søren repeated Berwald’s words quickly, reaching down to grasp Agda’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s-”

Agda ignored him, slipping from his grip to move past him and before the huldrekarl with a beaming smile. “Hello!”

The huldrekarl simply blinked at her, motionless and questioning. Søren hovered behind Agda, ready to yank her backwards at a moment’s notice and hoping that she’d lose interest in him. Instead- to his horror- his niece reached out to tug gently on the huldrekarl’s hair, laughing in delight at the silkiness. “His hair is nicer than yours, Uncle Søren!”

“You think?” Søren was breathing heavily, unable to tear his eyes from the huldrekarl and his every move. Horrific images played through his mind- his faith misplaced, the huldrekarl snapping Agda’s neck after one wrong move- and one hand snaked around his niece’s waist to hold her securely against his chest. The huldrekarl seemed relaxed, wincing slightly at a none-too-gentle pull, but Agda’s safety was the Dane’s first and most important priority. “Why don’t I get you something to eat? How does-”

The words died in his throat with a choke as the huldrekarl’s hand moved, and he made to pull his niece out of the creature’s reach. His movements stilled when the huldrekarl placed a hand on her head and stroked Agda’s sun-blonde hair in an reflection of what she was doing to him, eyes wide and curious at the bright strands.

His eyes moved to Agda at her giggle, and she craned her neck to look up at Søren with a grin. “He’s funny! He likes my hair, too!”

The huldrekarl’s actions were visibly gentle, and he touched Agda’s hair with only the tips of his long fingers. As Søren watched, his hand retracted, and the huldrekarl moved to lie on the sofa with a soft sigh, uncle and niece forgotten. Letting out a huff, shame suddenly filling him at assuming so little of the huldrekarl, Søren picked Agda up and balanced her on his hip, voice quieter and losing some of its shakiness. “Let’s leave him to sleep. Would you like some lunch?”

“Nah. Mama made me a sandwich before we left.” Agda was examining his hair now, running her small hands through the unruly clumps with interest. “It had chicken in it. Can you read me a story?”

“A story, hm? I bet I can guess which one,” he teased, hearing her laugh and wrap her arms around his neck with her delightfully chubby arms as his heart rate returned to normal.

“ _Den Lille Havfrue!_ ” his niece squealed, almost slipping from his hip. Søren hastily tightened his grip on her, remembering nearly cracking baby Helga’s head open when he was four and desperate to hold his newborn sister.

“You got it, sweetheart.” Grabbing the book from the shelf, he sat by the huldrekarl’s feet on the sofa, Agda perched on his knee. The huldrekarl cracked an eye open and watched them, then slid from the sofa in one fluid movement. When he settled down again, it was to switch his position; he was now curled into the sofa, head brushing Søren’s thigh, and he gently swatted Agda’s hand away when she started stroking his hair again. Søren snorted with laughter, searching for the page upon which the story began. “I think he wants to hear it, too.”

“He knows it’s good,” Agda said, chin in the air, and Søren had to agree with her.

* * *

“I think Agda’s decided that she has a new friend,” Helga murmured in his ear as she buttoned up her coat, one hand stroking back her daughter’s hair. Søren caught her by the arm and knelt down to tie her scarf, still half-listening to his sister. Tiina had left to pick up clothes for the huldrekarl, and Berwald was in the back room with him. They had unanimously decided to keep coffee from him, and instead kept his drinks restricted to water and fruit juice, lest the caffeine having a negative impact on his body. The last he’d seen them, Berwald was attempting to teach the huldrekarl to knit.

“Is that right?” His words were directed to Agda, who was biting her thumbnail. He paused to tug her arm down, shaking his head with a sheepish grin and holding up his hand to show her his own, bitten fingernails. “Bad habit, sweetie. You don’t want to end up like your uncle.”

“Who is he?” Helga mused, finished with her own coat and slouching with her hands in her pockets. “Your friend? Berwald said he was called… Axel, I think.” Søren thought before answering, silently cursing Berwald for picking such a _stupid_ name.

“Quiet guy; I met him through work. He’s staying with me for the moment, since his- his _father_ died, and he’s trying to get in contact with his little brother again.” He loathed lying to his family, but what could he do? Helga was a sceptic- she’d think he’d gone mad if he told her what his house guest really was. Tiina was different. _Tiina_ was the type who still believed in Santa and would steadfastly insist on his existence. “He’s- well, his hearing’s not great, and he’s had things pretty hard. Do you like him, Agda?”

“Yeah. He’s nice.” If only he could see the world though Agda’s innocent blue eyes, where the huldrekarl was simply an ordinary, if silent man. His niece raised her hand to her mouth again, but slowly lowered it at her uncle’s stern look. “Uncle Berwald’s house is boring. Can we go to your house again next time?”

Søren tipped his head back and laughed aloud at her blunt honesty. Even Helga covered her smirk with a hand, and Søren pressed a kiss to Agda’s forehead with a ruffle of her hair. “Course we can. Helga, could you call into my house and pick up Hamlet? I’m staying with Berwald tonight, but I don’t want to leave him alone- Agda, I’m trusting you to look after him for a few days for me, okay? I know you two love each other. ”

“I will!” Agda waved frantically as her mother took her hand, giving Søren a fleeting kiss on his cheek before she pulled Agda along. Søren stood on the doorstep and waved until Helga’s car was out of sight, grinning like a fool, and turned at the sound of Berwald’s heavy footsteps. The Swede’s eyebrows were raised, and was wearing a familiar smile.

“Borin’ house, huh?”

“To a six year old.” Shrugging, Søren clapped a hand on Berwald’s broad shoulder. “Don’t worry about it- remember the time she drew pink and purple flowers all over your arms? That’s her idea of style. She told all her little school friends about how pretty she’d made Uncle Berwald.”

“Took a week ‘fore they scrubbed off. Ah’m not gonna forg’t it in a hurry.” Berwald checked the door’s lock behind Søren, pretending to shudder at the memory. “Ah thought yeh would’ve brought Hamlet here- yeh hate leavin’ him.”

“I don’t want our friend to be unnerved by him- who knows if he’s seen a real cat before? Gradual steps, Ber, gradual steps.” While he thought mournfully of his loyal companion, Berwald switched the topic to a more important one.

“Tiina is goin’ to be back soon. I thought yeh could have my room, she could have the guest room, and Ah could set up a bed for the huldrekarl in the livin’ room. Ah’ll take the sofa- storm’s meant to happen tonight, an’ it’d be better for him to be around someone.”

“Berwald, it’s your house. You have your room, I’ll have the sofa and keep an eye on him.”

“Won’t hear it.” Berwald dismissed his words with a wave of his hand, and Søren scowled at him.

“Ever the gentleman, aren’t you? Is it because Tiina’s around, and you’re trying to make an even better impression on her? If you’ve a double bed, why not have you and her sleeping together? I mean-”

Berwald was a calm, quiet, mild-mannered man. He didn’t, however, have any problems with smacking Søren’s head and swearing him to silence over his feelings.

* * *

With Tiina and Søren reluctantly taking the beds, and Berwald on the sofa downstairs, the Swedish man’s weather warnings proved true. Lying in bed, irritated with the grumblings of thunder outside, Søren came to the conclusion that his friend was a whole lot better at predicting the weather than he was at giving up his pride.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, and he considered shoving his head under the pillow. When the weather was terrible, he usually had Hamlet curled around his feet, and his rumbling purrs definitely helped with the sound of the thunder. But no, he was in Berwald’s house now, one that was cat-less and so filled with IKEA furniture that Søren wondered if he had a loyalty card.

The sudden pattering of footsteps interrupted his wayward musings. Søren raised himself from the bed, frowning and propped up on an elbow, as he heard the door being pulled open. Two wide, cobalt eyes met his, and a lithe body edged its way around the door.

“Hey, what are you-?”

Before he could finish his sentence, another crack of thunder shook the house and the huldrekarl scrambled into bed beside him, wrapping arms around his waist and clinging to the Dane. Søren stiffened, hand moving to clutch the huldrekarl’s shoulder and move him back, but his actions stilled at the huldrekarl’s shaking, and at the tears soaking into his t-shirt.

“Oh,” he uttered aloud, turning to stare at the ceiling instead, “the thunder scares you.” The huldrekarl said nothing- back in his makeshift pyjamas from Berwald which hung from his frame- but pressed his face to Søren’s abdomen with a sniff.

“It used to scare Helga- you know, my sister who was here today. She used to climb into my bed, too. It’s horrible, isn’t it? It still unnerves me, because it always sounds as though the house will collapse, though my cat’s usually my sleeping partner. I thought I wouldn’t have to comfort anyone else again until I had kids, but I guess I was wrong.” Søren smiled at his own musings, now stroking the huldrekarl’s back in an effort to placate him and stop the shaking. “I was scared that something would happen with Agda, but you were good with her. Seriously, I was prepared to grab her and run, but you surprised me. Thanks for that. She’s a little darling, isn’t she? I’d love a kid of my own, so I’m pathetic and spoil my sister’s rotten.”

His words seemed to calm the huldrekarl, who glanced up at him with a tear-stained face and raised eyebrows. Søren couldn’t hold back his snort of laughter at his expression, but gasped in pain when the huldrekarl kicked his foot. “God! Okay, sorry, sorry- you’re crying. That’s not funny. Sorry to laugh.”

The creature huffed to himself, unamused at the Dane. Søren rolled his eyes, wondering how he should react to his growing confidence, but shrugged it off to continue talking. “Berwald keeps on at me to stop talking about wanting a kid and actually have one, but- I don’t know how that’s going to happen. Adopting one, maybe- I like the idea of giving some poor kid a really great life. I mean, I’m twenty-seven now, and I’ve wanted a family since I was a teenager. I’m worried about leaving it too long and ending up alone at sixty or seventy, you know?” Søren paused, letting a sigh escape, and felt the huldrekarl press closer to him, suddenly still and listening.

“Well- anyway. I have Agda, and she’s six. That must be a similar age to what your little brother is now, from the photo. You looked… fourteen there, I think? I don’t know how old you are-”

He stopped talking and held his breath when the huldrekarl reached over and began tapping his chest in a pattern, taps coming a second apart from each other. Counting in his head, he frowned slightly. “Twenty-one? You tapped- oh. Are you twenty-one?” Excitement filled his veins, and he looked down to see the huldrekarl nodding. A grin spread over his face, and he ruffled his hair, ignoring his unimpressed pout. “You’re twenty-one. Okay. How old is your brother now?”

The huldrekarl paused for a moment, eyebrows knitted together and obviously thinking hard. A minute later, he began tapping again- Søren counted four clear taps, and then one halting one. “A bit younger than I thought, then. You didn’t do it straight away- could you remember exactly how old he was?”

He’d hit a wrong note. The huldrekarl’s face flushed in embarrassment, and he stiffened against Søren’s side, turning his head away. Now he realised it, they hadn’t found out when exactly the brothers had been separated. It could’ve been years, for all they knew; there was the possibility that he hadn’t seen his brother since the photo, when the boy was just a baby.

“I’m sorry. That was insensitive.” The huldrekarl’s eyes were focused on the sheets, lips pressed in a thin line, and Søren threw his mind around for something to say. “We’re going to find him, though. We’ll find Emil.”

His head jerked up and he stared, eyes wide and mouth slack, at the Dane. The mention of Emil’s name had thrown him completely unawares, and Søren could feel the thin fingers tightening into his shirt. He smiled, hopefully reassuring, at the creature.

“That’s his name, isn’t it? Emil- Eh- _meal_? I heard it on those… the tapes.” Søren grimaced, jaw tight, and took a steadying breath. In his defence, the huldrekarl was waiting patiently, eyes trained on his every muscle move. “Your little brother’s called Emil. He’s five years old, and he has this crazy white hair I’m going to assume is natural. He’s a huldrekarl too. You were separated. That’s all we know now, but I promise that we’re going to try and find him. Those tapes have to help us find something about where he is, or where that… _man_ sent him. We’ll try to find him, and give him back to you.”

The huldrekarl slowly digested his words, nodding slightly at every sentence. When he looked into Søren’s eyes, he seemed almost too afraid to hope. Søren kept up their unbroken stare, inclining his head so the huldrekarl could hear his whisper.

“I promise.”

The huldrekarl visibly struggled. His mouth opened and closed, lips forming soundless words while Søren waited. His gaze darted around the room, before settling on the Dane with tears shining in his eyes. Søren froze when he placed both hands on the sides of his face, the huldrekarl still trembling. Looking him dead in the eye, the huldrekarl’s mouth curved around unspoken words.

_Thank you._

For a moment, Søren did nothing more than watch him, feeling the sensation of the huldrekarl’s fingertips fluttering against his cheeks. Then, aching slowly, he reached up and mimicked the creature’s gesture- placing his own hands on the huldrekarl’s face, and wiping away the spilling tears with his thumbs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, leaning in and keeping fixed eye contact with the huldrekarl. “Those will be happy tears when we find him.”

Still shaking, still staring at him desperately, the huldrekarl moved until his forehead was pressed to the Dane’s, eyes sliding close and letting out a quavering breath. Søren merely smiled gently, own eyes closing and one hand moving to run through the huldrekarl’s hair.

They remained that way for several movements, holding on to one another and breathing deeply in unison. Thanks to his previous bath, the huldrekarl’s hair was silkier than before, and he shivered at Søren’s every stroke. Søren himself didn’t dare to move, until his companion took the first move, shifting until he was nestled in his side, forehead pressed to his ribs and hand fisted in his loose shirt. His eyes were closed, seemingly intent on sleeping at last, and there was nothing for Søren to do but run a hand through his hair, pull the light switch on the lamp, and tighten his arms around the huldrekarl.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled, and heard the huldrekarl’s dreamy sigh in response.

While the huldrekarl peacefully slept with his head on the Dane’s chest, Søren found himself unable to sleep, mind racing both from the book and his current situation. He knew what he was doing was risky; looking after someone he didn’t even know the name of, who wasn’t human in the slightest and could prove unpredictable.

But he was calm, and he was gentle. Beneath the desperately sad air surrounding him, Søren had no doubt that he loved his brother more than anything, and wouldn’t bring harm to any of them. He’d seen the curiosity he displayed when Tiina had arrived: surely his initially violent reaction to him had been from fear, from strangers arriving in the place he’d always been kept captive, then left alone?

Still; his vulnerability, and his lack of knowledge of the outside world were all too clear to see. Another few weeks, and he’d have been dead in that house. Søren decided that he simply hadn’t been taught how to survive, with every instinct stripped from him and cast aside. He needed someone to care for him, and on what seemed like a permanent basis- and who could? Other carers was out of the question- friends and family would think him mad, and none could take him- and if the authorities were informed, he’d be thrown into some sort of facility and experimented on for the rest of his days, reduced once more to a _specimen_ and not a _person_ -

Søren couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let it happen again, not when the huldrekarl deserved _so much more_. Eyes sliding down to the arms wrapped around his chest and face pressed to his collarbone, peaceful in sleep, Søren reached a hand up to stroke back the huldrekarl’s hair. He shifted, sighing lowly against his skin, and tightened his grip around the Dane. He watched him, noting every gesture of contentment and trust as his mind slowly worked to fit in the new person in his life- undoubtedly, the one who was to care for the huldrekarl.

His own eyes closing, he wrapped his arms tightly around the huldrekarl, breathing in his sweet, woody smell as they breathed in sync. He listened to the huldrekarl’s heartbeat, and willingly accepted his fate.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Berwald had the ingenious idea of cutting the huldrekarl’s hair to a shorter, more tidy length. The resulting fight took twenty minutes and several teeth nearly being knocked out for the plan to be abandoned, leaving Tiina to plait the huldrekarl’s hair as a way of compromise.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong- it shouldn’t be that messy, to begin with.” Søren had been watching and critiquing Tiina’s every move, only to finally lose his patience and elbow her out of the way to do the job himself. Ignoring Tiina’s snort, he undid the messy knots the Finn had managed to create and started plaiting his hair in a quick, tidy fashion. The huldrekarl was, predictably, eating again, and ignored whoever was playing with his hair in favour of digging into the can of tuna.  
  
“How come you’re so good at plaiting hair?” Tiina sounded stung over having her job stolen from him and picked up the huldrekarl’s empty hand, examining his nails. Berwald had managed to clip them short enough, drawing attention to his long fingers and soft palms instead. The huldrekarl glanced up, then pulled his hand away to grasp the can again and scrape into the contents of his meal. Tiina smiled faintly at the action, adding, “I don’t think he can get enough to eat. You’d think we starved him, and this is the first thing he’s been given.”  
  
“He _was_ starving, you know- starving to death. Still, we’ve been feeding him proper food for the last few days- we needed to work on his table manners, don’t we?” Seeing his messy way of eating, Søren questioning if his appetite still remained or not. “Anyway, I can’t see you doing many hairstyles, not with a bob like yours- it’s nice, I’m not criticising you! I learned some hairstyles from helping Helga look after Agda. Her father left before she was born, so I called by a lot when she was younger. Helga was only seventeen at the time, so I looked after Agda on my days off from the bank while Helga was in school. She works for the government now,” he added, pride filtering through his tone and mouth curving in a grin.  
  
“That’s sweet. I didn’t expect you to be the nurturing kind, but you _are_ his favourite.” Søren tied the end of the plait as Tiina spoke, briefly patting the huldrekarl’s head and wondering if he imagined the huldrekarl’s brief flicker of a smile. The Finnish woman was chewing her thumbnail, eyes roving over the huldrekarl’s face, who had turned to face her again. “We have to give him a name!”  
  
“Not until I search through all of the journals and tapes. Which reminds me-” The Dane grimaced, rising to his feet and brushing off his jeans “-I have to finish reading the journal. It might tell us where Emil is.”  
  
Tiina considered this for a moment, nodding slowly. “I guess so. Good luck; I’ll stay here and empty Berwald’s fridge for our friend, huh?”  
  
“Like Berwald _needs_ all that licorice, anyway. See you later.” The last part was directed at the huldrekarl, who met his gaze and let the shadow of a smile cross his face once more. Søren moved into the back room, resigning himself to hunting through the memoirs of a psycho to find more about his new friend. On the topic of Berwald, the Swede seemed to have disappeared, and Søren made a mental note to search him out later.  
  
Now, though, he had to try and force himself not to vomit all over Berwald’s nice carpet. It wouldn’t have been the politest thing to do, especially as he was only the house guest.

* * *

_**18** _ _**th** _ _**May, 1993-** _ _Observation and experimentation of Subject One commenced. (courtesy Professor M.D. to Professor K.H.)_

_Four pounds, three ounces- difficult birth (informed of use of forceps)_

_Notable hollow in back and tail; resembles that of a cow. Effect of hollow on internal organs unclear, to be examined._

_(huldrekarl)_  
_((was refused ownership of mother))_

 _**23** _ _**rd** _ _**August, 1994-** _ _Forming ability to speak and construct sentences- responds to ‘One’. Quiet when left in crib, rarely observed or heard crying._

 _**18** _ _**th** _ _**September, 1999-** _ _Skin grafts performed; observed to refrain from crying during the process. Planned examination of eyes, tear ducts. Human tissues used during construction, infection so far avoided._  
  
_Continued observation on mobility of tail. Longer fingers and toes than that of average child._  
  
_**5** _ _**th** _ _**May, 2001-** _ _Able to use gas mask himself. Distressed when first using it; convinced to do so by promise of books, then threat of punishment._  
  
_Observed to crawl under his bed and hum to himself after surgery. Informed by Professor Dahl to be trait shared by mother._  
  
_**12** _ _**th** _ _**November, 2004-** _ _Stitches on Subject One’s back smoothed and barely visible. Appears to be beginning sexual maturing._

 **_18_ _th_ _May, 2005-_ ** _Subject had proved too violent when contact is attempted; resists his wrists being bound. Punishment inflicted._

_**20 th May, 2005- **Subject no longer resists._

_**30** _ _**th** _ _**June, 2009-** _ _Contact established by Professor Dahl regarding the huldrekarl: I was offered the biological brother of the Subject. Paternity as yet unclear to me; shared maternity (Mother in state of distress upon discovering the loss of Subject Two: wailing and banging on the door of her holding until collapse from exhaustion. Potential for emotion in hulder?)_

 _Subject One left alone with the child to gauge reaction- picked up Subject Two and attempted to comfort him when Subject Two began crying. Professor Dahl left the room at this point; reasoning unclear._  
  
_(huldrekarl)_

_((seven pounds, eight ounces))_

_**10** **th** **July, 2009-** Subject One insists on Subject Two sleeping in his bed. Sleeps with his back to the door, facing the wall, with Subject Two in his arms. Has developed habit of staring me in the eye until I break eye contact and leave room at night, despite previous fear of looking me in the eye; believed to be weak attempt to intimidate me into leaving the child alone._

_**17** **th** **December, 2009-** Distress from Subject One if Subject Two is in pain from the injections- seizes him back and barricades them in their room for the rest of the day. Subject Two beginning to speak, though only heard from outside room- both silent unless spoken to in my presence._

_**12** **th** **September, 2010-** Walls of the Subjects’ room covered in drawings by each Subject- clear attempts by Subject Two to imitate the more advanced artwork of Subject One. Believed to be Subject One’s attempt to keep Subject Two from boredom as a source of entertainment; refused to meet my gaze (head bent, shoulders rounded) when bargaining for pens for Subject Two.  
_

_**4** _ _**th** _ _**August, 2011-** _ _Subject One’s progress is unravelling with presence of Subject Two; now tries to hide himself and younger child from surgeries. Punishment inflicted._

 _Subjects One and Two have established a bond. Subject One observed singing to soothe Subject Two into sleep- pet name given to Subject Two,_ _ “Emil” _ _. Subject Two observed to become distressed when separated from One due to punishment- has wrapped blankets around One upon reuniting, and sleeps next to him._

 _Subject One now questions surgeries, injures self to keep Subject Two from having surgery. Punishment inflicted._  
  
_(arches reconstructed. mobility hindered for three weeks. subject two observed attempting to care for him- helping to feed him)_

 _**1** _ _**st** _ _**January, 2012-** _ _Attempted escape by Subjects One and Two on the night of the 31st. Window smashed by Subject One; cut self on the glass, easily tracked by trail of blood. Found passed out due to blood loss on forest floor, with Subject Two in a state of distress. Convinced to come back due to confusion and exhaustion; Subject One dragged back._

 _Window and door of Subject One’s room barricaded: has been banging on the door and crying for Subject Two constantly, with pleas and suggestions to punish him instead. Distress increased upon hearing Two’s panic mid-surgery._  
  
_Tail of Subject Two removed; wound stitched. To be collected by Professor Dahl in the morning._

_Subject One badly injured hands in further attempts to escape. Possibility of broken fingers in addition to slashed tendon on upper arm. Extreme emotional distress from separation. Subject Two’s fate to be decided by Professor Dahl._

_**2** _ _**nd** _ _**January, 2012-** _ _Dahl arrived in late afternoon- quiet, unwilling for conversation. Has informed me that he is no longer in possession of their mother. Declined request to view Subject One. Subject Two still groggy, semi-conscious from surgery (tranquillisers too strong for small child?), carried by Professor Dahl; some hesitation from latter. Questioned him of what he plans to do with Subject Two; received no response._

 _Subject One began wailing at news of Subject Two’s removal; tranquillised to keep him silent._  
  
_**6**_ _ **th**_ _ **January, 2012-**_ _Tail of Subject One removed; process hampered by his fighting, surgery botched. Punishment inflicted._  
  
_Currently beneath bed. Ignores warnings of infection and possible death._

 **_11_ _th_ _December, 2012-_ ** _Nose reset, wound stitched, difficulty seeing/breathing for several days._

_Appears dazed and confused; unresponsive to questioning- potential hearing damage. Extent of head injury unclear._

_**17** _ _**th** _ _**May, 2013-** _ _Twentieth birthday of Subject One. Listless behaviour; now six months since last heard speaking._  
  
_**2** _ _**nd** _ _**September, 2013-** _ _Contact with Professor Dahl unavailable; phone lines disconnected. Neighbours informed me of his move to Trondheim abruptly and without further detail- signal of him leaving this project? Neighbours evasive when questioned of the presence of a young boy, thus, Professor Dahl’s treatment of him unknown._  
  
_**25** _ _**th** _ _**April** _ _,_ _**2014-** _ _Subject One often hiding under bed; hasn’t been observed reading or speaking in over two years. Extreme possibility of having forgotten his brother entirely. Now avoids my presence: claimed innocence when my medication went missing._  
  
_Punishment inflicted._

* * *

“ _This-”_ Tiina tapped the picture, enunciating her words clearly to the man by her side and leaning over her shoulder, “is Snufkin. I’ve always wanted a hat like his- it’s nice, don’t you think?” She laughed at the huldrekarl taking the book from her hands and holding it before his eyes, frowning at the pictures in curiosity. “I love _The Moomins_ ; I have for years, ever since I was a little girl. Did you like any books when you were young?”  
  
The huldrekarl shook his head, passing the book back to Tiina. The Finn bit her lip, flicking the page with embarrassment clear in her eyes. “Sorry. I don’t think you had many nice things as a kid… still, I know you’re enjoying this book. A Finnish woman wrote it, you know!”  
  
Berwald and Søren had been silent for the past few hours, caught up in their own affairs while Tiina was left to look after the huldrekarl alone. She found that she didn’t mind this turn of events- the huldrekarl was surprisingly likeable in his own, strange way. Given that it seemed he’d be around for a long time, Tiina supposed that they’d become good friends, especially as they were comfortable around each other.

The fact she was studying to be a nurse helped. With no way to bring the huldrekarl to a hospital for medical checks, Søren and Berwald looked as though they’d faint from relief at her help.

“Søren’s obviously your favourite- you really like him, don’t you? And you like me…” At this, she glanced at the huldrekarl for confirmation, and breathed a sigh of relief at his nod. “That’s good! Then Berwald.” At this, she bit her lip. “Berwald’s… well. I don’t think he knows what to think. He’s a very ‘think first, act later’ guy, so he’s probably still getting his head around this whole situation.”  
  
The huldrekarl didn’t look impressed, but Tiina leaned forwards and tipped him a wink. “Trust me, he’s a sweetheart! He can barely talk to me when I’m working and he comes in to buy something! I ran into him once when I was walking my dog, and he actually got down on his knees to pet her, and she _adored_ him- do you like dogs? I could bring Hanatamago around to see you! She’s pretty loud, but she’s really friendly, and the cutest thing- or maybe you’re a cat person? I know Søren has a cat, so I hope you _are_ a cat person, but-”  
  
She broke off when he realised how much she’d said, and how lost the huldrekarl looked at her babbling. Tiina laughed nervously, and wondered if the huldrekarl had really just rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, the _point_ was that Berwald just has to get to know you better! You two will probably get along really well!” She beamed at the huldrekarl, who seemed significantly less interested in his relationship with Berwald than Tiina was. Still, one thing pressed on Tiina’s mind: her new friend’s lack of a name.  
  
“Do you like Valentin?” Her hushed voice was greeted with a confused look, and the huldrekarl simply shrugged, apparently at a loss for what to do. Tiina hummed to herself, staring at the huldrekarl through narrowed eyes. “I think Valentin really suits you. I don’t know- you just _seem_ like a Valentin. It’s better than ‘huldrekarl’ by a mile. Valentin… _damn._ You don’t even have a surname!”  
  
To her disappointment, the huldrekarl had grown bored with the conversation, and slid down the sofa until he was lying flat. Tiina couldn’t move when he put his head in her lap, obviously deciding to use her as a makeshift pillow, and was forced to remain where she was while the huldrekarl settled down to sleep. Still, she patted his head in what she hoped was a friendly way, coming to the conclusion that the huldrekarl did little more than sleep, eat and observe them contentedly.  
  
Ten minutes later, Berwald reappeared while Tiina was flicking through his Moomins book, a carrier bag swinging from one hand. He stopped in the doorway at the sight of the huldrekarl sleeping, looking from the creature to Tiina. The Finnish woman grinned at him, nodding to the bag in his hand and speaking in a whisper. “Where were you?”  
  
“…out.” Tiina blinked, smile still frozen in place, and Berwald elaborated with a slight shrug. “Gettin’ some groceries.” Privately, Tiina wondered if there was more to the story, but didn’t press him as Berwald took the closest armchair. “How’s our friend?”  
  
“He’s fine. Quiet- well, he’s always quiet.” Tiina laughed to herself and Berwald smiled faintly, taking off his glasses and beginning to polish them on the end of his shirt. “I’ve been reading to him, so I think he likes books. Maybe he knows how to read, but I don’t know for sure. Still, we’ve had a good time together!”

Berwald nodded, still polishing his glasses. “Yeh like him, then?”  
  
“Of course I do.” Grinning, Tiina stretched, careful of the sleeping man curled around her. “Even without a voice, his personality really comes through. Søren was right- he _is_ a person, even if he’s a huldrekarl. Not because he’s different from huldrekarl, though- I think they’re all people too, but-” Aware of Berwald’s confused expression, her smile turned sheepish. “I’m making no sense, am I? Basically, I like him a lot, and I pretty much consider him a friend already. You?”  
  
In contrast, Berwald hesitated, and Tiina felt the smile drop from her face, at which Berwald hastily explained himself. “Nah, Ah don’t _dislike_ 'im. Ah just- don't know him. Ah've only known him a day.” He looked thoroughly uncomfortable, but Tiina visibly relaxed at his words, smile returning.  
  
“Well, we’ll get to know him, won’t we? I see what you mean, no worries! How could he not like _you,_ though? You’re the-”  
  
She was interrupted by the door swinging open and banging on its hinges- as a result, Tiina jumped, and caused the huldrekarl to awaken with a yelp. His attention, however, was focused on Søren, who was standing in the doorway and looked paler than a sheet.  
  
“Sorry,” he mumbled, all but stumbling over to an armchair and sitting down heavily, apparently unaware of Berwald and Tiina’s shocked expressions. “Didn’t know my own strength.”  
  
An uncomfortable paused followed, and Søren buried his face in his hands. Berwald’s eyes slid to Tiina, who bit her lip and spoke, voice tiny.  
  
“What is it? Did you find something in the tapes or journal?”  
  
“Yeah. I did.” Søren swallowed heavily, nodding at the huldrekarl as he tried to focus his mind. “A lot. I found a lot.”

Another pause followed, and Tiina tried again. “And did you-?”

“There was stuff about skin grafts- I suppose that’s why you can’t see the hollow in his back other hulder have.” Søren cut her off in a sudden rush, voice tremulous. “Stuff about his tail being removed, too. But- he could speak. He could- _can_ read. He- Tiina, I’ve got the feeling some terrible stuff happened to him- there’s all this stuff about _punishment_ and _head injuries._ He was badly injured at one point, and the journal mentioned that he was unresponsive. I think that’s when he stopped speaking; Tiina, that could’ve been why he isn’t speaking now.”  
  
Tiina looked stricken, Berwald shifting uneasily by her side. Søren glanced to the huldrekarl, and found his eyes focused on him, calm and cross-legged on the floor. Biting his lip, eyes boring into the huldrekarl’s, Søren spoke again. “I think you were right. I think he’s deaf- maybe not completely, but I honestly think he’s nearly entirely deaf.”

Silence followed his words. Berwald swallowed, raising a hand to rub his forehead, but Tiina’s head was bent, face hidden by her hair. To his right, the huldrekarl yawned, covering his mouth and stretching. Søren simple waited, waited for another to speak, to act.  
  
That came when the Finnish woman raised her head, whole body trembling.

“That’s why he stares at us,” Tiina whispered, looking sick at the realisation. “He’s not trying to unnerve us. He’s trying to read our lips.”

Søren felt his stomach lurch. He hadn’t considered the reason for the huldrekarl’s stares, not once- and yet, when he turned to look at him, saw the huldrekarl’s eyes firmly focused on Tiina’s mouth.

“One more thing,” he whispered, wiping a hand over his stinging eyes. “He has emotions, hasn’t he?”  
  
“Has emotions?” Tiina stared at him, unsettled from the reveal, but which grew into indignation. “Of course he has! Are you insane? Berwald, he’s emotional, isn’t he?” Berwald nodded, and Tiina gently took hold of the huldrekarl’s arm. He glanced at him, blinking curiously, and Tiina looked to Søren with a glare. “Not appropriate, Søren. You’re making him sound like an animal, _and_ you’re talking about him like he’s not here.”  
  
“I know, I know. I was just having you confirm what I was thinking.” Søren resisted the urge to take the huldrekarl and draw him into a hug; to hold him and comfort him from the emotional torture he surely must have gone through at the loss of his beloved brother. A small part of his mind thought to the other torture, and pushed it down before his fear overtook him. Instead, he stood and addressed Tiina and Berwald, eyes darting between them. “Get your things together- we’ll leave tonight, and I’ll drive, Ber. We’re going to Trondheim.”  
  
While they both threw him confused frowns, it wasn’t until the huldrekarl looked up at him that Søren spoke again, mouth tugging in a bitter smile despite the ache in his chest. “Professor Dahl moved to Trondheim, and just happened to leave his address with a neighbour. We’re going to Trondheim, and we’re going to get Emil.”

The old man had written in the journal that the huldrekarl had most likely forgotten his brother’s name. Søren’s doubts were only proven when the huldrekarl leapt to his feet and threw his arms around him, tears soaking into his shoulder and breaths coming in short, sobbing gasps.

“Oh my _God!”_ Tiina yelped, hands clapped to her face and bouncing in ers seat delightedly. “You’ve found him! I didn’t think it would say, but you _did,_ and- oh my God! He’s going to get his brother back! He’s gonna get his baby back!” Almost immediately, Tiina scrambled to her feet, rambling about supplies while Berwald followed, slightly shell-shocked, in her wake.

“We’ll be drivin’ through the night- Ah’ll pack food, an’ blankets, an’ we can take turns drivin’-”  
  
“Yes!” Tiina exclaimed, beaming at him. “How much should we bring? We could be driving for ages, and you know how much he eats-”  
  
Through all the noise they made, Søren remained where he was; eyes closed, the huldrekarl enveloped in his arms, and swaying back and forth as he hummed for him.

As it happened, it was over an hour before they were ready, and the late afternoon sun was beating down on Søren's back as he loaded the food cooler into Berwald's car. His friend was currently locking up his house, with Tiina and the huldrekarl in the back of the car- and, when he glanced in at them, saw that Tiina had built all but a den for them with numerous blankets and pillows.  
  
“Well, we _are_ going to be sleeping,” Tiina said defensively, but Søren was more concerned with how the huldrekarl appeared delighted at the comfort.

Berwald appeared by his side, jangling his keys as he buttoned his coat. He moved to his car door, then glanced up at Søren. ”Yeh ready? It’s a long drive t’Trondheim-”  
  
“I’m ready,” Søren said, before he could continue. He took a deep breath, then a sigh. “He’s waited long enough. Let’s not wait around.”  
  
Berwald’s response was a short, sharp nod, and a gesture for Søren to climb into the car.

For the first hour or so, the huldrekarl sat in the back with Tiina, who was still debating names and offering suggestions. Søren could see dark blue eyes focused on him in rear-view window, unblinking and steady. He knew, from the gratitude and yearning in those eyes, that the huldrekarl was silently thanking him.  
  
Søren knew that the huldrekarl’s captor couldn’t have been more wrong about him. He may not have been human, yet even without a voice, Søren couldn’t doubt the devotion he had to his younger brother, or of the emotions he so clearly possessed. Fear; anger; devastation; _love._  
  
His mind returned to the journal again: one of a stack of such notebooks, that had him shaking and wanting to burn them all at every new sentence. He couldn’t push his deafness out of his mind- how could he, anyway?- but already his thoughts were racing. Would a hearing aid work for him? It wasn’t a question of if he _could_ get a hearing aid _-_ determination filled every fibre of his being, determination to give him everything he’d been denied, everything he _deserved._

The man behind him had been reduced to a specimen, had his bones broken, had been _punished-_ yet he still chose to trust them. In particular, he’d decided to trust Søren himself.

When they stopped at a service station an hour into the drive, to let Tiina run in and grab apparently vital supplies for the four of them and Emil, Søren put the address into the Sat-Nav and let Berwald drive. He chose to instead clamber into the back with the seemingly pleased huldrekarl, and let him settle his head in his lap until he was comfortable.  
  
He stared out of the window throughout most of the journey, watching the scenery pass and the sky darken, brushing the huldrekarl’s hair back from his face with every action deliberately gentle- and when the huldrekarl shyly took hold of his hand, held it secure and tight in his.


	6. Chapter 6

The child whines as he shakes him frantically, trying to push him away and only reluctantly waking from the comfort of sleep. He blinks up at him in the gloom, endearingly confused at being awoken, but his thoughts are a terrified tangle that have him focused only on what lies ahead.

"Time to get up, Little One," he whispers, tugging away the blankets and scooping him up in his arms. His brother is light and elfin, automatically moving to clutch him with tiny hands and yawning. He strokes back the soft, platinum hair, and tries to keep the tremble from his voice. "Let’s get you dressed."

His brother is silent from the last dregs of sleep, but speaks up as he hunts through their meagre clothing, one hand searching through the wardrobe and the other supporting the child against his side. “Why are we awake?” Gaze focused on the darkness behind the curtains, his voice registers only confusion.

He doesn’t reply at first, and after a moment, a hand pats at his face. His eyes turn.

"Brother?" Emil asks, gaze focused on him. "What’s happening?"

Again, he hesitates before answering. He swallows, fingers trailing along one of the jumpers, before looking around at Emil and managing the weakest of smiles. That, at least, has the boy relaxing in his grip.

"We’re leaving," he tells him, tone as smooth and calm as he can make it. "Leaving and never coming back."

In the aftermath of his words, Emil is silent. He’s set down without complaint, chewing on his thumbnail as his brother returns to searching the wardrobe, and says nothing when he’s dressed with less care and more haste than he usually is. He only moves to tug his hair, sweet little face creased with worry.

Finally, sliding on his own boots, he faces his little brother and attempts a smile. “Is that okay with you?” Emil, sat on the floor and fiddling with his sleeve, remains silent, and he chews on his lip in his own anxiety.

If he has his way, they’d have been up and gone within ten minutes, yet Emil is dragging this on much longer than planned. Despite the desperate thumps of his heart at the delay, the sudden worry in Emil’s expression makes his chest tighten, and he kneels before his brother. “What is it, Little One? You can tell me.”

Most everything Emil tells is to him- when out of the professor’s range, his nervous whispers turn into full on chatter to his older brother. Now, he’s back to his tiny whispers, and he takes the hand offered to him and clutches it tightly. He takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and seems to gain the confidence needed to confide in him.

"What about the professor?" Emil asks him, peeking up from under those wintry lashes. "Won’t he mind us leaving?"

Leaving. Freedom. Bitterness burns on his tongue, and he bites back the fury welling up inside of him. His little brother, reduced to a frightened shell at the thought of doing something of their own free will. He had gone nineteen years without tasting fresh air, yet he dwells on the fact his toddler of a brother has never once set foot outside this prison, and how he fears the repercussions of doing so.

Emil deserved the world, and what he got was a cruel mockery of that.

But no more. Not as long as he lived.

"He won’t know until we’re gone. He thinks we belong to him, but we only belong to each other." He takes Emil’s hand, thumb rubbing his soft palm, and draws it to press over his own heart. "You belong to me, and I belong to you. I’m your protector, and while I’m here, nothing’s going to hurt you any more. All right?"

Emil hesitates- then, under his brother’s solemn gaze, nods once.

He moves into action immediately. With his brother bundled up for the cold winter’s night, he pulls on another jumper himself, lamenting the lack of proper clothing. No matter: Emil is peering out from behind a hat pulled low over his head, mouth hidden by his scarf, and his brother’s well being is all he’s focused on. He turns to stare at the window- small, locked, and the only conceivable exit from this locked room.

He glances around at it- at the threadbare carpet; small, uncomfortable bed; looming wardrobe; and, of course, the walls covered with their sketches. He can remember all too clearly their makeshift decorating, and how Emil laughed at his quick sketch of a puffin, charmed and delighted by how his brother chased the boredom away.

Nineteen years, trapped in here. He can’t let the same happen to Emil.

The professor’s a deep sleeper, situated on the other side of this small house. In this sparse room, he had to plan with what he was given- and, with Emil obediently stepping back at the wave of his hand, he picks up the bedside lamp.

Emil jumps at the crack, and he winces. Spidery cracks stretch along the window; not quite the break he wanted, but thankfully quiet. He pushes at them with the base of the lamp and they give way, falling to the ground as he scrapes as best he can. Finally, he turns to his brother, and tries his best to smile.  
  
“You ready?” he murmurs. Emil nods, raises his arms, and he hauls him up and presses a quick kiss to the child’s temple.

Unmoveable shards of glass still border the window frame, and the huldrekarl lowers his brother out as cautiously as he can. There’s just the slightest of drops, but Emil wriggles from his arms and lands on his feet, open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the sensation of cold air on his skin. He can’t hold back his grin at Emil’s reaction, and moves to swing himself out and join him, leaving their torment behind.

It all goes wrong when he pulls his arm back. He can’t hold back a gasp at the sudden flash of pain, and recoils to clutch his left arm, doubled over and teeth clenched. When he peels his fingers away they’re stained with red, and a bloom of colour is spreading over his sleeve. He’s suddenly aware of his shallow breaths, how his whole body is trembling- but what he focuses on is Emil’s whine of panic, the hands tugging frantically at his leg.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Emil’s eyes look as frightened as he feels, mouth trembling and hands curled into tight little fists. He releases his arm and instead picks up Emil, settling him against his hip and kissing his plump little cheek. When he speaks, he prays that Emil won’t hear the tremor of panic in his tone.

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay. Now we  _have_ to leave.” Emil nods, winding his arms around his brother’s neck and holding on tight, and glass cracks under his feet as he steps away. Despite the pain, a new excitement is taking over, and his heart aches with love for the wide-eyed boy in his arms.

His feet crunch through the snow as he walks, and he knows that, by morning, their footsteps will have all but faded away. Emil reaches up as they pass trees, fingers trailing along the empty branches and dark wood, and the amazement in his expression convinces him that this is all worth it.

The woods are achingly silent, so much so that he can almost hear the thumps of his heart. His arm is throbbing, and he can  _feel_ how wet his sleeve is becoming, yet focuses his attention on the boy nestled in his arms. Even for a three-year-old, Emil is tiny, curled against him and head tucked under his chin. He reminds himself that, again, this is for him; this is giving Emil the life he  _deserves_ , and not the one he was made to live through.

As if on cue, Emil speaks up, voice louder now they’re away from the house. “Where are we going?” He hums, and feels his little brother giggle at the vibration against his cheek as he snuggles against him.  
  
“To find the other hulder.” Emil stiffens, and he tightens his grip on him, feeling pain shoot through his arm as he does so. “No, no, it’s okay. We’re just like them- our tails prove it, don’t they?” He waits for Emil to nod, and drops his voice to all but a coo. “We’ll be safe with them, safe from the professor. He won’t dare come after us then. We could find our mother, too. It’s where we belong.”  
  
Privately, he fears of how well they  _will_ fit, and wonders if Emil feels the same. They’re all but half-human, half-huldrekarl, and neither of them have met another hulder, be they male or female. But where can they fit?  
  
If the human world is like the one he’s grown up in, he’ll choose his fellow hulder in a heartbeat.

Emil sighs, long and low, and tightens his arms around his neck. The moonlight illuminates him, creates a shine to his silvery hair, and his expression is remarkably peaceful despite the chill around them. It’s a mark of how much he trusts his brother, and how he puts his faith in the fate he chooses for him.

Focus on him. Focus on Emil.

He takes a shuddering breath, trying to ignore how his arm is shaking and steadily loosing feeling. He can ignore it, push it aside until they’re truly safe and far away from the professor. He can’t stop now, not when he’s already done the impossible and escaped. He  _can’t_.

He stops. Swallows. Sways where he stands, and hears Emil’s sharp gasp as he feels the blood soaking his arm.

“You’re hurt!” he whimpers, and suddenly his little brother is sliding from his lax grip, the snow crunching beneath his feet as he clutches onto his legs. “You’re hurt, you’re  _hurt-_ no, please-”  
  
He isn’t sure what his brother is pleading for. His mind is steadily darkening, no matter how much he fights it, or how panic closes his throat over. He tries to take a step and stumbles, falling to one knee and clutching his arm with a moan of pain.

Emil winds his arms around his neck once more and clutches him close, now hugging his older brother to _him._ He’s barely able to return a one-armed grip, feeling Emil’s tears against his scalp and sobs racking his little body.

_Oh, Little One. I’ve dragged you out here, only to fall short of the finish._

He’s leaning fully on him now, and Emil is barely able to hold him up. Dimly, he’s aware of the red on white, of the crisp snow being stained beneath his touch, beneath his failing vision and Emil’s desperate gasps for breath.  
  
_I was trying to save you. I was trying to save us._

“No, Brother, please wake up- please-  _please-”_

Emil releases him, unable to cope with his weight and allowing him to slide ungracefully to the ground. To his dull surprise, though he lies curled in the snow, broken and defeated, he can’t quite feel the cold.

_I’ve failed you. You deserved more than I could ever dream to give you._

His Little One nestles against him, sniffing and choking, stroking his face with his tiny hand and clamping down on his arm in a weak attempt to stop the bleeding. Emil buries his head against his brother’s chest, and with the last of his strength, he holds him against him, eyes glassy and dim to the world around him.

_I am so very sorry._

The world slips from his weak grasp to the sound of sobs and pleas, and he knows no more.

* * *

Søren opened bleary eyes to find himself sprawled over the back seats of the car, the huldrekarl curled against him and breathing deeply as Tiina grinned from the driver’s seat.

“You’ve been out for a few hours,” she remarked, voice low and casual with her eyes still on the road. Seeing that the sky beyond was pitch-black, their road illuminated only by the gleaming street lights sliding past, he didn’t doubt Tiina’s words. The Dane stretched, feeling the pop of his muscles, and worked his stiff jaw. The huldrekarl shifted against him, sighed, then was still once more.

“Time?” he asked groggily, throat dry from sleep. He rubbed his eye with a yawn, and Tiina glanced to the dashboard.

“Almost three. I’ll stop at the next service station and I’ll switch with this big lug.” She nodded to the dark form of Berwald in the passenger seat, head lolling back against the headrest and body angled towards the door. Even with his slow mind, Søren couldn’t miss the note of affection in Tiina’s tone.  
  
“Nah, s’okay. I’ll do it.” Despite the comfort of their makeshift den, Søren pulled himself into a sitting position, shifting as best he could to cushion the huldrekarl’s head in his lap. For a moment, he was sure he’d gotten away with it- then cursed quietly as the huldrekarl stiffened, opening an eye and blinking up at him. “Shit, sorry- I didn’t mean to wake you-”  
  
The words died in his throat as the huldrekarl smiled up at him, then turned on his side and settled down, sighing heavily and seemingly set on returning to sleep.  
  
He  _smiled_ at him. A real, actual smile, so different from the ghosts and glimmers he'd seen before- his eyes had creased, his lips had undeniably curved, and he'd done it automatically. When he woke up, and his first sight was of Søren, his instant impulse had been to  _smile._

Søren was so busy staring down at him, his heart banging from both amazement and delight, that he didn’t notice Tiina’s attention slide to him until she spoke. “He just adores you, Søren. He thinks the world of you.” Her voice was barely a murmur, and a gentleness edged her words when speaking of their huldrekarl.

In contrast, he wriggled uncomfortably at the Finnish woman’s claims. “I wouldn’t say  _quite_ that…” He trailed off, fingers stroking the huldrekarl’s hair back, and cupped his thin cheek with a palm. Thumb brushing the hollow beneath his left eye, Søren tried his defence again with more gusto in his words. “How can you say that, so soon after we’ve met?”  
  
For a moment, Tiina didn’t reply, and Søren wasn’t sure if he’d get a response. Silence stretched out as Tiina tapped the leather of the steering wheel, and Søren moved to stroke the huldrekarl’s face, marvelling over how soft and smooth his cheeks were. Then, Tiina’s eyes met his in the rear view mirror, and her smile was soft and sad.

“The way he looks at you. When he looks at you, it’s as if you’re the only thing that matters.”

There was something else, something hidden in her tone that Tiina wasn’t saying. Søren opened his mouth, then closed it again, swallowing as he did so. Tiina’s eyes slid away from his and back onto the road, and nothing more was said.

Nothing more needed to be said.

True to her word, Tiina pulled over at the next service station and leapt from the car, stretching and sighing dramatically in the cold darkness. As the huldrekarl stirred in his lap, yawning and rubbing his cheek against Søren's thigh, the Dane leaned over to tap Berwald's shoulder- and, when a tap proved useless, shook him violently.   
  
“Get up, you big idiot.” Berwald woke with a start, and Søren yelped when he grabbed his wrist, holding tight and looking ready to strangle him.  
  
“Ah  _told_ ya not t’wake me up like that,” he snapped, gripping his wrist enough for Søren to panic and imagine him snapping it off. Then, he released him, glower changing to confusion as his eyes slid to the huldrekarl still sprawled over Søren’s lap. He, too, glanced down, to see the huldrekarl pressing his fingers over his mouth, unsuccessfully trying to hide his smile.

“Look,” the Swede said dryly, pulling back and opening the car door, “he’s realised yeh’re an idiot.” With that, he got out and slammed his door, striding off to join Tiina inside the station. The huldrekarl drew his hands away to push his hair away from his face, and Søren thanked whatever listening gods that he’d stopped laughing at him.

Easing the huldrekarl into a sitting position, Søren kept one hand on his back as he opened his own door. ”There you go- I’m going to get in the front, all right? It’s warmer back here, so sit tight and-”  
  
He was interrupted when the huldrekarl slid out the opposite side, climbed into the passenger seat, then looked back at him with an expectant expression.

He couldn’t help it: he tipped his head back and laughed, for the huldrekarl’s ease at slipping away and determination to sit by him. The huldrekarl watched him, lips pursed, and snagged a blanket from beside him as he waited for Søren's chuckles to die down.  
  
When Berwald and Tiina returned, the latter grinning and swinging a bag in each hand, it was to find the huldrekarl in Berwald’s seat and refusing to give it up.  
  
Squashed in the back with a chattering Tiina, the Swede didn’t seem to be too disappointed at the new turn of events.

* * *

Two hours later, and he and the huldrekarl were the only ones still awake. After an impromptu, too-early breakfast of sandwiches picked up at the service station, Berwald and Tiina had fallen asleep in the back, wrappers littering the floor as Tiina let out the occasional soft snore.

Søren had given most of his sandwich to the huldrekarl, who’d become an expert at wrangling food out of him with those pleading eyes.

Despite the calm, comfortable atmosphere, Søren couldn’t quite push the darkening thoughts from his mind. With Trondheim approaching ever-closer, he found that his eyes were drifting to the huldrekarl more often than before, and couldn’t distract himself from the fact that the huldrekarl was throwing him brief, flickering smiles every time their eyes met.

“Why do you trust us,” he said at long last, brow furrowed and face stiff, “when humans have given you not reason to trust them?”

The huldrekarl looked perplexed at the sudden question. Frowning himself now, he shrugged almost apologetically, tucking the blanket more tightly around him and snuggling down into the seat. He glanced to Søren again, and his dark eyes invited the Dane to continue.

“Those scientists- they were the only people you ever knew, and they  _tortured_ you. They forced you and Emil to be half-human, half-huldrekarl, and no one ever knew it was happening. They treated you like shit, and they got away with it for twenty-one years. Were you two even the first hulder they had? Were you replacements for the ones they killed off?”   
  
His words flowed from him in a torrent of fury, clenching the steering wheel and breathing in quick, sharp bursts. The huldrekarl straightened in his seat, staring at him and lips parted, and clearly stunned at his sudden outburst. Søren couldn’t look at him; he couldn’t let his anger grow further, his  _rage_ at those who had brutalised such beautiful people threatening to take him over. He hadn’t even  _considered_ the two brothers being the latest- and last- in a possible line of huldrekarl.

Thoughts churning and teeth gritted, Søren’s eyes darted to the huldrekarl- and, at his stiff and frowning figure, let his shoulders slump and sigh tear from his throat, anger dissipating as quickly as it had appeared.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap, or get that angry.” The huldrekarl raised his eyebrows, and he smiled mirthlessly at his expression. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, though. I just- it’s so unfair. I can’t handle it, thinking of how I grew up loved and cared for, when you had  _that._ That professor gets no retribution, either- and who knows what’s going to happen with Professor Dahl?”  
  
In all honesty, he hadn’t done much in the way of planning Emil’s rescue. The basic idea was for Berwald to distract Dahl at the door- or throttle him, Søren wasn’t fussy- while he and Tiina located Emil and got him the hell out of there. Then they’d reunite the two brothers, shed tears at their joyous reunion, and drive off into the sunset, victorious and triumphant.  
  
He still needed to fine-tune some details.  
  
“I’ve been thinking.” Eyes forward and tone significantly calmer than before, Søren saw the huldrekarl turn to him with curious eyes. “About where you’re going to live.” The huldrekarl stared at him, then reached up to tug at the end of the ponytail, twisting his hair around one, long finger.

“Do you want to live with the other hulder?” The words were barely past his lips when the huldrekarl shook his head vehemently, chewing on his lip and looking torn at the thought. Søren let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, surprised at the sudden relief flooding through his veins.

“Thought not. I don’t know how well it would go with them, since you’ve never met another huldrekarl other than Emil.” Søren broke off, then dropped his voice to a softer tone. “Do you know where you want to live?”  
  
This time, he shrugged helplessly, looking at Søren as if he’d asked a question he couldn’t hope to answer.

In hindsight, it was a ridiculous question. The man beside him had nothing, owned nothing, and was focused on retrieving his brother and no more. The goal had been to find Emil, and that was that. The huldrekarl simply didn’t care about the future, it seemed- all he wanted was the present, where he could steal back his beloved brother.

Søren thought back to the how he’d been starving in that house, despite the cans of food around him. How he’d been listless and uninterested, only truly coming alive at their discovery of Emil’s existence. How his confidence had multiplied since he’d been around them, and he trusted Søren- the man who promised to get him his brother back.

The huldrekarl lived for his brother, and nothing else. He’d never been  _given_ anything else to live for.

“We’ll work something out,” he mumbled to the huldrekarl, mind filled with images and dreams for the future;  _their_ future, their lives irrevocably connected for the rest of their days, as the huldrekarl nestled beneath his blanket and stroked its rough hem.

All was quiet; the only noise came from the soft, even breathing of Berwald and Tiina in the back, still blissfully asleep and unaware. Tiina shifted, mumbling something and rubbing her neck, and Søren stiffened at the abrupt sound, forcibly reminded of something he’d never brought up to the man beside him.

He squared his shoulders, swallowed back his fear, and confronted his biggest query head-on.

“I heard some of the professor’s recordings.” The huldrekarl didn’t respond, fingers still fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, and Søren pressed on. “I heard you. I heard you speak.”

Slowly, the huldrekarl raised his head. He was staring straight at Søren, and his impassive gaze and tight mouth revealed nothing. Then he nodded, brief and blunt.  
  
Søren let out a deep breath, one he’d been unaware he was holding. Gripping the steering wheel between his hands, knuckles white, he pressed on. “If I asked you right now, would you be able to speak?”  
  
The huldrekarl turned away, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head against the window. His glassy eyes were on the dark trees framing the road, looming above them and hiding their countless secrets within. In the dim light of the car, lit only by the various screens of the dashboard, Søren glanced away from the road to see the huldrekarl nod once.  
  
“Right,” he said shakily, flexing his fingers around the wheel, “right.” The huldrekarl didn’t look around, staring straight out into the darkness, and angled just slightly away from Søren. He wondered if it was deliberate, an intended shield against him and continued questioning. “I- just one more. Just one more question.”  
  
The huldrekarl didn’t respond, and he took his chance. “Would you speak to me if I asked you to?” He waited, taking in a deep breath and chewing on his lip. Eyes darting between the road and the huldrekarl, he waited for an answer.  
  
It came when the huldrekarl shook his head; slowly, resolutely refusing his plea.

He couldn’t quite explain what he was feeling in that moment. Crushing disappointment, perhaps, his hope being shot down like a bird before him. Whatever it was, he felt nauseous, and his stomach churned as he took in a steadying breath. The huldrekarl was still facing away, still pretending that he couldn’t see Søren’s sudden dismay.  
  
Was it that he’d misjudged the huldrekarl: he and Tiina both, believing the huldrekarl trusted and  _cared_ for him, when in reality his trust was slim and unwilling to be given? Why else would he not speak to him, not say a single word when it would make their situation so much easier, and when he went as far as to tuck himself into beside Søren and fit perfectly against him?  
  
Fear. That’s what it was. The fear that, yet again, he’d been a dreamer and nothing more.

As he stared straight ahead, hands and mouth trembling, the huldrekarl slowly shifted to face him. Søren kept his eyes on the road, pretending he was engrossed with their route while hurt welled up in his heart and a sudden emptiness caved itself in his chest.  
  
A hand covered his on the steering wheel, palm closing over his knuckles and fingers massaging his skin with gentleness he hadn’t felt in years. With a tug, his hand was pulled from the wheel, and he balanced it with his right hand as the huldrekarl held his left, one hand cupping it as the other smoothed out the lines of his palm.

The huldrekarl looked up at him as he linked their fingers together, chewing on his tongue and facing him fully now. Søren's eyes flickered between him and the road, hardly daring to breathe as the huldrekarl raised his hand, and twisted it to press a kiss to the thin skin of his wrist.

His lips were chapped, the kiss feather-light, and a thousand times more gentle than he’d ever expected.

He moved Søren's palm to rest against his face, and he was confronted with a memory- that of the huldrekarl hiding beneath the bed, simultaneously terrifying and terrified, manipulating Søren's hand to cup his face and provide him with possibly the first human kindness he'd ever received.

Now, he was relaxed; clothed, silken-haired and beautiful; calm in their company, and aware of his newly-found safety and escape from a hell-hole. He’d been trembling when Søren held his face back then, just a few days before, wary of this new man and the harm he could bring.

Now, though- now the huldrekarl opened his eyes to gaze unflinchingly at him, his equal and fellow, different in species yet so alike in every other respect.

He became aware of how tight his chest felt, staring into the huldrekarl’s eyes, and the new emotion overriding all else in his mind. The huldrekarl blinked, then reached out to draw the blanket around him more tightly, nestled in his seat and pressing another kiss to Søren's wrist.

A pact; a promise for the future.  
  
“One day,” he said softly, looking back to the road and blinking rapidly. “One day you will.”

The huldrekarl nodded, a simple confirmation of his words. There was something in his eyes- the look that Tiina had been talking about, one which had Søren embarrassed that he’d doubted the huldrekarl’s feelings of him, that his ego had made him believe  _he_ was the reason for his muteness rather than other factors.

Uncertainty. The loss of Emil. Simple disuse. He couldn’t be sure which was to blame.  
  
Before them, the sky was lightening at the very edge of the trees, painting the horizon a rich, royal blue. Berwald gave a soft snore in the back, and Søren glanced in the rear view mirror to see him angled towards Tiina, whose knee was nearly planted in the Swede’s face. The huldrekarl raised his eyebrows at his snort of laughter, just as Søren's mind threw up a new question.  
  
“When was the last time you spoke?” he asked the huldrekarl, seeking nothing but his answer. The huldrekarl paused, eyebrows knitted together, and then held up two fingers.  
  
“Two years,” Søren said aloud, and the huldrekarl nodded. He gripped the huldrekarl’s hand more tightly, and felt him squeeze his fingers back. “This is the very last question, I swear.” He didn’t look around, but couldn’t hold back a smile at the knowledge his companion was surely rolling his eyes. “When was the last time you saw Emil?”  
  
Perhaps it was the knowledge that he’d see his brother again. Perhaps it was Søren simply underestimating the huldrekarl’s composure. Whatever the reason, the huldrekarl’s face remained smooth, and he held up two fingers once more.  
  
Søren closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, and nodded once. “Thought so.”

They were silent, hands still clasped, breathing in sync. The huldrekarl sighed- a long, sad noise that came as he wrapped his blanket more tightly around him, eyes peeking out from over the thick hem. Søren couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, and saw the very edges of the huldrekarl’s eyes crease in one of his small, mysterious smiles.

Though he’d been surviving on the barest snatches of sleep, Søren wasn’t tired in the slightest. Instead, every one of his nerves hummed, anticipation filling him at what lay ahead. A quick glance to the Sat-Nav only increased his sudden delight, and the huldrekarl raised his head as he spoke, grinning like a fool.

“Just over two more hours until we reach Trondheim, buddy. Two more hours, and then you’ll see Emil again.”

The huldrekarl took a deep breath, steadying himself and closing his eyes. He nodded, then squeezed Søren’s hand, alerting him to how badly he was shaking from nervous joy. The huldrekarl opened his eyes and focused on Søren- and when he smiled tremulously at him, Søren was quite sure it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.  
  
The sky above was streaked with a thousand shades of gold, bathing their car in the early morning light with the arrival of a new dawn, and of a new beginning.


	7. Chapter 7

Their arrival was greeted not with triumph, but with despair.

At the sight of only a rundown building, windows boarded up and melancholy seeping from every crevice, Søren could feel his breath escaping from him in harsh gasps- and Berwald stared hard at him before speaking.

“Professor Dahl’s long gone.”  
  
”He can’t be,” Søren breathed, fear striking inside of him, trying to lie to himself even with the abandoned home before him. The roof was falling in, windows smashed or boarded up- but that professor had to be here. He _had_ to.

It was all they had, and every one of his nerves were aflame at the thought of a dead end, of complete and utter failure.

It was all they had, and yet Emil wasn’t here. Emil was gone.

”Ah’ll ask the neighbours. They might know somethin’.” Berwald jerked his chin towards the pretty, clearly _occupied_ houses on either side of it, and climbed out of the car before either Søren or Tiina could protest otherwise. The Dane felt Tiina wrap an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his arm soothingly.

“There’s still hope!” she whispered, trying her best to smile encouragingly at him. “Maybe- I don’t know, maybe he wrote the wrong address and meant one of these neighbouring houses? Or maybe he moved again, or left his address with them!”  
  
“Or maybe,” Søren said, voice soft and low, “it was false hope to begin with.”  
  
Tiina sucked in a quick breath, eyes wide and worried, as self-hatred welled up in Søren’s heart as he twisted to look at the huldrekarl.

He was asleep in the back of the car, buried under sheets pulled to his chin after switching with Tiina an hour ago. For the first time, he looked relaxed as he slept, hope and anticipation clearing the deadened look from his features. Søren wondered if his dreams were of finding Emil, now, rather than of losing him.

He’d promised him that he’d find Emil. He’d _promised._ Søren looked again to the empty building, one hand splayed on the window, and took in a shuddering breath. Tiina tightened her arm around him, features creased and biting on her lip, and together they awaited Berwald’s return.  
  
Several minutes later, the Sweden ducked back into the car, closing the door as quietly as he could. He turned to face them, and they both recoiled at the grimness written across his face.  
  
”Is he dead?” Søren found himself asking, words barely a whisper from his dry throat. ”Is Emil dead?”  
  
Berwald considered his response, before sighing and speaking in a tone of resignation.  
  
”Neighbours told me tha’ Professor Dahl was livin’ there with his son. Called him Emil, an’ seemed decent enough. Used to take him to the park an’ the library. Wasn’t a friendly man, but they said the kid was quiet and content. Sometimes the professor would let Emil go over to theirs so he could play with their dog.” Tiina’s eyes widened in shock, and Søren found himself swallowing heavily.

This Professor Dahl was responsible for everything that had happened to the two huldrekarl- somehow gaining possession of them, and then passing them to that madman- but he hadn’t hurt Emil. He’d taken care of him. He’d let him be like a normal child, and he _hadn’t kept him inside._ Søren’s gaze drifted to the sleeping huldrekarl, curled into himself and frowning even in his sleep.  
  
For at least a short while, Emil had been given a normal childhood. He’d been well; a stark contrast to the brother that had been tortured all his life, who had never left that house and had lost his only companion.  
  
He’d protected Emil as best he could, but there had been no one to protect him. He’d had no idea that in losing Emil, he’d instead given him a better life.  
  
”What happened then?” Tiina’s soft, urgent voice yanked Søren from his musings. “What happened to them?” Wide eyes were focused on the Swede, and Berwald let out a shaky breath. He turned to look as the huldrekarl stirred, blinking tiredly in the light, and who focused on Søren with confusion in his eyes.  
  
”Few months ago, house was broken into. The professor was killed, an’ Emil was gone.” Both Tiina and Søren recoiled, horror clear in their expressions, but Berwald held up his hand as he pressed on, voice low and urgent. ”Police never found who did it, or where Emil is- but they don’t think it’s a classic kidnappin’. Didn’t find a sign: s’like Emil left willingly. They think it _wasn’t normal.”_  
  
In that moment, Søren knew exactly what had happened. Søren turned to Tiina and Berwald, mouth a harsh, bleak line as he spoke.  
  
”The others found him- the other hulder. They killed the professor and took him. They took him back, where he belongs.” Søren found himself blinking rapidly, voice taking on a new plea. ”But he _doesn’t_ belong. He’s not like them. He belongs with his brother.” He jerked his head around to stare at the huldrekarl in confirmation, but was presented with an empty space and the sound of the car door slamming. ”Wha-?”  
  
”He’s gone!” Tiina all but shrieked, eyes upon the sight outside. Søren’s head whipped around to stare, horror-struck, at the back of the huldrekarl- sprinting to the woods that surrounded the town, stumbling as he went but relentless. ”He heard you- an he’s gone to get Emil himself!”  
  
”Oh God. God, _no.”_ Søren threw open the door and scrambled out, Berwald and Tiina in his wake. Even as he started running, the huldrekarl slipped into the forest and was swallowed the gloom, any trace of him vanishing. Berwald yanked his shoulder, forcing him back so he could hiss out a warning.  
  
”Yeh can’t go after him- there are wild hulder out there, they’ll kill yeh-”  
  
”They’ll kill _him!”_ Søren snapped, wrenching his arm from Berwald’s grip. ”He won't speak! He can't tell them who he is, or what he wants, and I'm going after him!”  
  
Berwald stared at him for one, long moment, conflict present in his eyes as he struggled with what to do. Tiina took the opportunity to bypass him and start running for the forest herself, leaving them with no choice but to follow the surprisingly fast Finn.

* * *

He could barely see through the gloom of the forest, instead concentrating on the desperate thumps of his heart as he inched along, hands running over the trees as he struggled to see. Berwald and Tiina were somewhere to his right, but his mind was focused only on finding the huldrekarl.

  
He thought only of his fear, barely stopping to think that he himself could be killed alongside the huldrekarl.  
  
So concentrated was he on the task at hand that he was thrown unawares when Berwald snaked an arm around his neck and slammed him unceremoniously against a tree, a hand moving to clamp over his mouth and repeating the action with Tiina, cutting his gasp off. ”Don’t move _at all_ ,” he hissed to them, glasses flashing as he peered around the tree. Søren wriggled furiously, trying to escape, but froze at the sight before him.  
  
Fifty feet before them, barely visible in the gloom, their huldrekarl was on his knees before at least a dozen of his wild counterparts.  
  
”Nonononono…” Søren trailed off in a whispered mantra, clutching at the tree before him. The other huldrekarl- too focused on their new find to notice them- made their huldrekarl look utterly human, and Søren heard Tiina swallowing heavily at the sight of their hollowed backs and tails. He couldn’t see what was happening with the poor light, but he could hear Berwald’s low voice in his ear.  
  
”He’s pleadin’ with them,” he muttered, nodding towards the huldrekarl’s bent head and submissive posture. ”He’s… is he _talkin’?”_  
  
”No- but we can’t hear him.” Tiina was chewing on her fingernails, shaking with fear and anticipation. ”You were right. They’re the ones who took him”  
  
”He doesn’t know that for sure. He’s risking his _life.”_ To say Søren was terrified was somewhat of an understatement. ”They might kill us if we try to speak to them.”  
  
”So we wait,” Berwald murmured, still holding them to the tree. ”We’ll wait an’ see what happens.”

It came when Tiina let out a low gasp, freezing in her place. As slowly as he dared, Søren turned his head to look to where Tiina was staring, and caught the eye of a huldra- wild, female, and with her eyes focused right on him.

She was beautiful; that was for certain. Waist-length blonde hair, thin and elegant, she tilted her chin up as she looked down upon them. Her green dress was tattered at the hem, hair unbrushed, and yet she had all of the grace of a queen before her subjects.

As the huldra stared unflinchingly at them, only one thought played through Søren's mind: was this the first time that she'd stood before someone and _not_ been the one in fear?

”D’we tell her we don’t mean any harm?” Berwald whispered, eyes never moving from the huldra. They were all shaken at her sudden appearance, at her unknown reason for being there, and Søren’s eyes moved to her tail, curved around one leg and twitching back and forth.

“Do you even know if she’ll understand us?” Tiina hissed back, but the panic in her eyes was clear. “It’s worth a try, but _still._ She isn’t like him!”  
  
Søren tuned them out, staring the huldra in the eye. There was something curiously familiar about her, in how she stood, how she tipped her head just slightly to the left. He had the brief thought that he’d seen her before, but surely he’d have remembered her. There was something haunting about her, silent and sultry and beautiful.

“We’re not here to hurt you- any of you.” The two behind him started at his low, controlled tone, yet the huldra kept her eyes focused on Søren as he spoke. He swallowed, palms still raised, and tried again. “We’re here with him. You have his brother, don’t you?”  
  
The huldra offered no reply, but instead caught her breath in her throat at his words. Søren merely nodded, confirming what he’d been certain on.  
  
“He wants him back- he _needs_ him. They were separated against their will, and there’s nothing he loves more than that kid.”

Her expression flickered, and she frowned at him, as if she was considering something. As he waited, holding his breath and frozen in his position, her eyes turned back to the huldrekarl. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, nibbling on it as she shifted from side to side, and slid her eyes back to Søren.

She’d come to a decision, and though her face was set, her lips trembled.  
  
Abruptly, she turned- and with one last look thrown over her shoulder at them, she turned, picking her way through the undergrowth as fast as she’d appeared.  
  
Søren let out a tremulous breath, and heard Tiina’s sigh of relief from behind him. Of everything, _everything_ that had happened over the past few days, that had been the most bizarre. It was her eyes, he decided- those big purple eyes, staring into his as if judging his very soul.

For what, he didn’t know.  
  
“That was a good sign, right?” He turned at Tiina’s whisper, meeting the Finn’s hopeful expression. “That she didn’t react badly to us? D’you think she didn’t see us as a threat?”  
  
Søren opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn’t speak for the huldra, or know what secrets plans she kept hidden within herself. At a loss, he could only shrug, and watched Berwald swallow and resolutely square his shoulders.  
  
Absently, he realised that their arms were linked, and how Tiina was clutching Berwald’s hand as if it was a lifeline.  
  
“Maybe she was wondering what we were doing with him,” Berwald suggested, and Søren nodded without really hearing him, dropping his forehead to the tree before him and letting out a heaving breath. Three humans hiding in the woods, expressing their concern for a man of another species entirely. Holding their palms up, coming unarmed, and scared of _her._

She’d seen humans before. Søren was sure of it- and of the shock in her eyes at their worry for the huldrekarl, her disbelief that they wanted him safe and well.

Søren heard the child before he saw him.

The shriek of _”Brother!”_ resounded in his ears, jerking him out of his fear with a jolt, and he raised his head from the bark of the tree before him to the tiny figure hurtling towards the huldrekarl. In a heartbeat, he’d reached him and threw himself in his arms, sobbing and clutching onto the creature with his arms tight around his brother’s neck.  
  
The huldrekarl recoiled, body stiffening. Søren could see the whites of his eyes, even from where he stood; the pure _shock_ in his features at the sudden reunion. Then it hit him- the fact that his little brother was here, _with him,_ in his arms and holding onto him for dear life.

As Søren watched, open-mouthed, the huldrekarl wrapped his arms around his brother and buried his face in his neck, pressing him to his chest as his shoulders heaved with sobs. Everything else was ignored by the two as they embraced, the child gripping onto his brother with what was surely an iron hold as the huldrekarl tilted his head up, examining his face with a hungry, desperate gaze before pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could reach. The child squirmed but didn’t pull away, only tightening his arms around his brother.  
  
Tiina gave a ragged, delighted sigh behind him, and Berwald’s grip on their shoulders loosened. As the other hulder disappeared into the trees- able to flee, their role done without too much fuss and near silence- Søren stumbled into the clearing, heading straight for the two huldrekarl without a second thought. When he reached them, the child- _Emil-_ finally looked up, fear registering in his eyes at the new figure and clutching his brother even more closely.  
  
If he had to, he’d guess that one took after their father, and the other after their mother. Though clearly brothers, there weren’t many similarities between the two- Emil’s eyes were wider, nose not quite as thin and bone structure not as noble, and his pale hair lacked the silken wave of his brother’s. Søren couldn’t look away from those eyes, though- in contrast to his brother’s murky blue eyes, his were lavender and ringed with grey eyelashes that made him look more fairy than anything else.

He didn’t have his brother’s elegance, though. This was proven when Emil wriggled in his lap and hid his face in the huldrekarl’s sweater, risking only the occasional peek at them before hiding once more. The huldrekarl didn’t notice his shyness- instead, he kissed Emil’s head and cradled him in his arms, focused only on his brother’s need for comfort.  
  
“Emil?” Søren said softly, moving to kneel before them. The huldrekarl glanced up at him, then shifted so Emil was peeping out at him over his shoulder. He stroked back the child’s hair as he tried, and failed, to meet Søren’s eyes.

“Emil, it’s okay.” He noticed Emil’s hands curling into fists, clutching the fabric of the huldrekarl’s sweater. Søren tried for a smile, and from the sheer relief and delight the moment brought, managed it. “We’re not here to hurt you, kiddo. We’re the ones that brought your brother here. We found him, learnt about you, and realised we had to find _you._ He’s missed you very much.”  
  
Achingly slowly, Emil tilted his head to look up at his brother, hope and fear intermixed in his expression. The huldrekarl simply nodded his confirmation, and reached down to bump their foreheads together.

It was a private moment, an exchange of love meant for only the two of them, and yet Søren couldn’t help but continue. “I’m Søren, and this is Berwald and Tiina behind me.” They nodded in turn, Tiina beaming and Berwald giving an awkward little wave. “We’re going to look after you, if you want that. I swear it won’t be like it was with the professors, never again- you’ll be safe, you and your brother both. You’ll be safe with is. Is that okay?”  
  
He waited, heart in his throat. At long last, Emil’s eyes were on him, and he rubbed the sleeve of his faded tunic over his mouth. He was looked after, Søren realised. His hair was cut to that jaw-length bedhead, and though his tunic was grubby, it came with the stains all five-year-olds were expected to pick up.  
  
The hulder had viewed him as one of their own, and yet Emil fit perfectly in his brother’s arms, and held tight to him as the hulder disappeared.

The huldrekarl finally tore his eyes away from Emil to focus them on Søren, eyes shining and expression registering pure joy. With a tap on his arm, Tiina pressed a blanket taken from her bag into Søren’s arms, and the Dane leaned forwards to offer the blanket to the brothers.  
  
Emil’s eyes were still uncertain, breathing heavily as he held tight to his brother. The older huldrekarl reached out, accepting the blanket from Søren and wrapping it around Emil, pressing another kiss to his head and nuzzling against his hair. At this, Emil relaxed, fingers loosening in his sweater.  
  
“You won’t take him away?” He started, taken aback at Emil’s sudden whisper. Though they had all heard him cry for his brother, his little voice came as a surprise, and he propped himself up to stare at Søren over his brother’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna go if he goes away again.”

Søren could only stare at him, barely able to string a sentence together, before a delighted smile curved his lips and his face split with a grin. ”No. We won’t take him away. You two belong together, and you’ll stay together. That’s a promise.”  
  
Emil’s face was solemn, but at the kiss brushed against his cheek, he took a deep breath, met Søren’s eyes, and nodded firmly.  
  
Somehow, they managed to navigate their way out of the woods- Berwald and Tiina leading, and Søren and the huldrekarl following in their wake. The elder still held his brother securely in his arms, serene and quiet, and allowed Søren to wrap an arm around his shoulders and steer them along. By the time they reached the car, Emil was asleep, his cheek pressed against his brother’s chest, and Søren helped the huldrekarl climb into the car without waking him. He settled himself into the other side, letting out a breathy sigh as Berwald took the driver’s seat.  
  
”Your house?” he murmured, conscious of the sleeping child, and Søren could only nod.  
  
He watched the two with his heart thumping painfully: the huldrekarl with his little brother nestled in his lap, crooning softly and running fingers through his hair as the child slept. Nothing else could capture his notice; the two were content in their own world, simply focused on their reunion.  
  
As Berwald started the van again, Søren shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around the two. The eldest seemed unwilling to sleep- probably to stand guard over his brother- but dark blue eyes met Søren’s own, and he offered him a small, grateful smile.  
  
He knew he was thanking him for more than his makeshift blanket, and he swallowed back the lump in his throat to address him in a low tone. “You can sleep. I know you want to protect him, but you have to sleep. I’m here, and you’re safe.”  
  
The huldrekarl’s beautiful eyes were still uncertain, focused on Søren and frowning slightly. The Dane refused to break their gaze, one hand moving to push the huldrekarl’s hair out of eyes. He, then leant his head against the window with a sigh, eyes sliding closed as he settled down for sleep.  
  
At some point in their journey home, with Berwald and Tiina hiding smiles from the front, the huldrekarl ended up pressed against Søren’s chest, the man’s arms around both brothers as all three slept together.  
  
They were together, and content to remain as such.

* * *

Søren wasn’t quite sure what he expected when, late that night, they arrived back at his home, utterly worn out from the day’s events. What he certainly didn’t expect was, upon opening the front door, the huldrekarl to waltz through the hall and into the kitchen, one arm holding an awoken Emil securely to his chest as the other searched the fridge.

“He’s… settled himself in,” Berwald murmured, voice stunned as they watched the huldrekarl’s actions. Under their gaze he found a boxed sandwich and, after opening it and sniffing it suspiciously, passed it to Emil and continued his search. Søren shook his head in disbelief, moving to crouch beside Emil on the floor. Like his brother, he’d grown to trust them in a short space of time, and simply blinked up at the Dane curiously while chewing on _his_ sandwich.  
  
“So, little guy, I think your brother’s gonna get you sorted with food, and we can get you a bath later. That sound all right?” Emil nodded, more focused on his food, and Søren ruffled his over-long hair with a grin. “We’ll need to get you some clothes, then, and a haircut. But that doesn’t matter right now- just concentrate on that sandwich, kiddo!”

At Berwald tapping his shoulder, Søren reluctantly left the brothers in the kitchen and walked with the other two to the hallway. With the door closed behind them, the Swede faced him with a serious expression, a beaming Tiina at his side.  
  
“So.” Berwald raised his eyebrows, and motioned towards the kitchen. “What next?”  
  
“Getting them settled in here, I ‘spose. He’s given every indication that he wants to live here, but I’ll run it through Emil, too, even if he’ll no doubt go where his brother does.”  
  
Tiina snorted, surprising them both. “You think? He’s only put Emil down _once_ since he first got him back again. They’re absolutely devoted to one another.” Her expression softened as she stared at the kitchen door, and Søren guessed that the Finnish woman was falling for them as quickly as he himself was. “How about I come over with some clothes for them tomorrow? They’ll need just about everything, I guess, though I might need to get smaller sizes. At least until they put on weight!”  
  
“By the way he’s going, he’ll be healthy in no time. Bring ‘round a week’s worth of food for tomorrow, won’t you?” Tiina’s laugh was pealing, and even Berwald chuckled at his words. Søren grinned, a new giddiness filling his heart. “Seriously though, Tiina- thank you. I can’t thank you both enough, for all of this. I couldn’t have done it without you here.” Berwald raised his eyebrows, and Søren frowned at him. “What?”  
  
“Nothin’,” was his response, yet the Sweden’s lips twitched. “Jus’ surprised t’hear yeh thanking me.”  
  
While he scowled at his friend, Tiina laughed again, then reach over to grasp Berwald’s hand and hold on tight. Right then, Søren would’ve betted that Berwald was as shocked as his dumbstruck expression looked.  
  
As for him; well, he was less than surprised that Tiina had finally tired of Berwald’s shyness, and took things into her own hands, both literally and figuratively.

“I’ll call Elizabeta, and schedule appointments with her,” Tiina said, the top of her head inches away from reaching Berwald’s shoulder as she grinned at Søren and bumped her arm against Berwald’s. ”Then, when you get back to work, you can leave them with one of us. We’ll keep helping you- all of you!”  
  
“Ah- Ah’ll bring toys for Emil.” Berwald looked agonised, Tiina’s hand around his met with a smirk from Søren. He couldn’t hope to say anything in front of her, and Søren took pleasure in the fact that, just for this moment, he could laugh at Berwald’s embarrassment without repercussions.

When Berwald had left the house as fast as he could, a frantically waving Tiina in tow, it hit Søren that he’d left the huldrekarls alone. Alone, with the back door possibly open, or else able to be unlocked by a young man-  
  
Upon bursting into the kitchen again, the two huldrekarls glanced up at him, faces inquisitive as the elder held a spoonful of yoghurt out to the child perched on his knee, halfway through the process of feeding him.  
  
“I-I thought-” He wasn’t quite able to voice his concerns, and the older huldrekarl shrugged, pressing the spoon to Emil’s lips and continuing to feed him. Søren moved across the room to sit cross-legged beside them, smiling encouragingly at Emil when he glanced up at him. For a moment, he seemed unsure of what to do- then, Emil smiled back tentatively, reaching up to rub his mouth with the grubby sleeve of his tunic.  
  
Søren had never seen anything so charming in his life.  
  
His head jerked as the door was pushed open again, but the Dane’s eyes were drawn to the ground, and he beamed at large cat making a beeline for him. _“Hamlet!”_

From what he could guess, Helga must have left him back- it hadn’t been his smartest decision to entrust his cat with a sister who was allergic to them. In the corner of his eye, he saw the older huldrekarl draw the younger into his arms, but he was focused on the animal clambering onto his knee, whose purrs were permeating the air. He turned to the two, grinning, only to find the huldrekarl staring at him and Emil staring at Hamlet.

“You’ve got a cat?” Emil was staring at Hamlet, pressed against his brother’s chest and yet straining to look at him. Søren hesistated, before realising that the child’s eyes were shining with excitement. As his brother sat back, eyeing Hamlet gingerly, Emil was half-heartedly wriggling away from his grip.  
  
Hamlet grumbled as Søren hefted him into his arms, but settled down to kneed in his lap as his purrs permeated the air. Looking up at Emil, Søren grinned, and received the briefest of smiles in return. “This is Hamlet, Emil- see how friendly he is? He doesn’t bite, so you don’t need to be scared of him.”  
  
He highly doubted that Emil was scared, given his reaction, but he tugged once more at his brother’s grip- and, reluctantly, the huldrekarl released him from his arms. Still perched on his lap, Emil stretched his hand out to Hamlet, but paused. Glancing up at Søren, his tone was almost apologetic. “Can I stroke him?”  
  
“’Course you can! No need to ask- he’ll probably cry until you do, he’s that spoilt.” Emil nodded, but he could tell his attention was solely fixed on his cat. Ever so slowly, the child reached out, and flinched when his hand made contact with the cat’s fur. Søren and the huldrekarl were both silent as Emil, breathing heavily, stroked a hand along Hamlet’s head. When he raised his hand to repeat his motion, and the cat butted his hand with his head, Søren started at Emil’s quiet noise- only to realise the child had let out a breathy _laugh._  
  
“You like him?” he asked softly, and Emil nodded with a delighted smile.  
  
“He likes _me!_ ” Emil stretched out his other hand, running it through the thick fur of Hamlet’s back as the cat purred at the gesture. With Emil already falling in love with his cat, Søren turned to the older huldrekarl, smiling encouragingly at him as he viewed Hamlet with hesitation. Emil twisted his head to look at him, delight written across his features. “Stroke him- he’s soft, like you promised cats would be!”

The huldrekarl was biting down on his lips, fiddling with his hands as if undecided. Søren understood, at least somewhat, and reached out to pat Emil’s shoulder to gain his attention. “Just let him adjust to Hamlet- neither of you expected to see him, did you?”  
  
Emil nodded solemnly, as if he understood his brother’s sudden reluctance completely. “We’ve never seen a real cat before,” he told Søren, voice almost diplomatic. “Sigve said that they made people sneeze, though.”  
  
Søren frowned, eyebrows knitting together as Hamlet shifted on his lap. “Who’s Sigve? Was that Professor Dahl’s name?”  
  
At that, Emil looked incredulous, as if Søren couldn’t have asked him a stupider question. “ _He’s_ Sigve,” he said, the disbelief plain as day as he jerked his finger.  
  
Søren felt his breathing stop as, slowly and languidly, the huldrekarl raised his head at the sound of the name with a questioning look.

 _His_ name.

He’d been a fool, a careless fool to not consider that there was someone who _would_ know his name- for even if the professor hadn’t bothered to learn it, how could a brother forget his only family’s identity? Emil had known, had treated it as if his name was no hidden secret- and now, it was exactly that.

The huldrekarl. Their huldrekarl. Emil’s brother, his brother, the unnamed silent man-

_Sigve._

He choked, and both huldrekarls jumped, startled by the sound, as Hamlet slid off his lap and disappeared with a huff. Hands shaking, Søren pushed his fingers through his hair and entangled them there, as if trying to hold himself together. The huldrekarls- Emil and Sigve- were wearing matching expressions of alarm, and Emil tentatively reached out to touch his hand. “Are you-?”  
  
They yelped when Søren crushed them in a hug, arms tight around them and laughing breathlessly. “I never knew!” he gasped out, pulling back to grin at their shocked faces. “His name- _we never knew!_ And you- you knew, and- he’s Sigve, he’s _Sigve-”_  
  
As Sigve nodded, acknowledging him and yet stunned at his reaction, Emil blinked up at him with a frown. “He’s my brother,” he said, and shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I wouldn’t _forget_ his name.”

A laugh bubbled from his throat, and he leant down to kiss the boy’s forehead, brushing back his hair with a hand. Søren glanced up to be met with the cool, calm gaze of the huldrekarl- _Sigve._ He was smiling at Søren as if congratulating him on the final realisation, the final piece of the puzzle before him- the puzzle of the huldrekarl, which was finally complete.  
  
He wasn’t altogether sure why he started crying. Everything seemed to hit at once, as if the walls to his realisation had crumbled with the reveal of Sigve’s name. He tried to laugh, to swallow it down, yet felt the tears begin to run down his face like oil slicks. They turned to stare at him, wide-eyed and alarmed yet again, and Sigve reached out a hand to him. Søren waved him away, breath hitching. “I’m okay, I- I’m happy, I-”  
  
He couldn’t manage any more, words swallowed by a choke. Shoulders shaking, he reached up to drag his hand beneath his eyes, taking a great, shuddering breath. Emil’s worried expression remained, but a mask of understanding had slipped over Sigve’s face. Evidently, he knew how he felt, and Søren was struck by the professor’s journal; how he’d believed this wonderful man had lacked any empathy at all.  
  
When Sigve reached out and wrapped his arms around him, one around his waist and a hand cradling Søren’s head, he allowed it. He knew it was how he held Emil, gave comfort to the boy, and accepted all that he gave. As a hand pushed through his hair, entangling there, Søren let the tears soak into Sigve’s sweater, and heard the faint sounds of the huldrekarl’s humming.  
  
There was movement to his left, and then Emil pressed against him, head against Søren’s chest and blinking up at him. “Don’t be sad,” he whispered, and reached to take Søren’s hand, linking their fingers together. Purple eyes sought his out, and Emil’s little mouth was twisted in a pout. “You shouldn’t be sad.”  
  
A five-year-old who decided whether someone should or shouldn’t be sad. Søren couldn’t help his smile, and Emil blinked up at him, lips curving into a hopeful smile of his own.  
  
“Nah. I’m not sad. Not now that you two are here.” Emil looked amazed, and when Søren raised his arm, obediently pressed himself against the Dane’s side. While he ruffled the child’s hair, thumb moving to stroke the curve of his cheek, he felt Sigve’s fingers stroke along his own face.  
  
They remained that way- Søren cuddled in Sigve’s arms, and Emil nestled against him. He wondered if these feelings of impossible happiness, and impossible love, were shared by the brothers. After a moment, Sigve pulled back, but he tilted Søren’s chin up with the very tips of his fingers. Søren blinked, and Sigve’s brief frown smoothed as he brushed the tears from Søren’s eyelashes.  
  
They were so close that Søren could see the flecks of purple in his eyes, and feel each of Sigve’s soft breaths against his cheek. As they gazed at one another, Sigve’s hands still upon his face, Søren became aware of how frantically his heart was racing.  
  
It was Emil who broke the moment with an uneasy sound. Sigve automatically turned, and his hand slipped to rest on his lap as Søren blinked down at the boy. Emil looked thoroughly uncomfortable, as if expecting a telling off, and winced when Søren ruffled his hair. “What is it, kiddo?”  
  
Evidently, Emil needed support when faced with a big question. Hamlet had moved to flop down on a nearby rug when the hugging and crying had started, yet returned to rub against Emil’s hand when the child held his arms out. Burying his face in Hamlet’s fur, he had his eyes hidden when he addressed Søren, seeking comfort from the cat as he spoke in a tentative little voice. “Can we live here?”  
  
Something tugged at Søren’s heart; something deep-rooted, hidden within himself and stirred at Emil’s question. Both huldrekarl were staring at him now, and it took his breath away to see the _longing_ in their expressions. Here were two brothers forced to unfairly straddle the line between human and huldrekarl, never fitting in anywhere- and in the elder’s case, had never been _loved._ And here they were, desperate before him, beautiful and mistreated and simply wanting a home.

He remembered how Sigve had insisted on sleeping with him, and had sought him out for comfort and companionship. How he’d been present for all his talks on families and children and love, never commenting but always straining to hear him. How he’d held Søren’s hand, and been the first to lace their fingers together as he talked about Emil; rescues; reunions.  
  
He didn’t need to consider his decision.  
  
“You can live here for as long as you want, Emil. I’d like you both to- if you want that. I know what’s happened to you, and it… well. It really upset me, because you didn’t deserve what happened with the professors.” He took a deep breath, managing to smile weakly at the child. “You deserve to live somewhere where you can get looked after and cared about. I know the hulder did that, but that wasn’t with Sigve. You two are together now, and your safe place… that could be here. This could be your home.”

 _Home._ A foreign word to the huldrekarls staring at him in amazement, almost unable to believe his words. It was Emil who spoke first, and Emil who spoke for them both.  
  
“Please,” he breathed, eyes wide with wonder. “I want to have a home- and a cat.” Søren laughed at that, a great sound of delight and relief- and, beside his brother, Sigve stared at him with his lips parted and longing in those beautiful eyes. Søren merely smiled, and reached out a hand to him.  
  
“Our home, Sigve,” he murmured, tenderness lacing each word. “Ours.”

Sigve opened his mouth, then closed it once more. He said nothing, and remained as silent as ever- yet reached out to grasp Søren’s hand and grace him with one, determined nod. Søren felt suddenly lightheaded, yet beamed so hard at him that he felt like he could never stop- and Sigve, eyes on his, replicated it with a blazing one of his own.

Throughout the night, through baths and dinner and Emil’s gradually increasing smiles, Sigve’s hand remained around his.

* * *

Søren awoke suddenly that night, suddenly stiffening in his place. He wasn’t quite sure what woke him up- perhaps a dream that was quickly fading from memory- but made as if to open an eye and glance around him. Instead, he froze, as the sound of a small child’s whispering became apparent.

”-caves in the winter,” Emil breathed, back to Søren and undoubtedly speaking to his brother. “The adults would cover the front with vines and moss, to keep the cold out, and we’d sleep deep inside them. If it snowed, we’d stay in there the whole time, but it was big enough for everyone, and I liked it. Everyone looked after each other.”  
  
Søren peeped out from under his lashes, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Despite him having a guest room, the two brothers had been set on sleeping with him, and Emil had been tucked between him and Sigve for warmth. They’d been quiet- Sigve from habit, and Emil from shyness- but had let Søren tighten the blankets around them and fill the air with stories of tomorrow’s breakfast, Hamlet’s daily routine, and of Arthur Kirkland’s conspiracy to win the next promotion the bank offered.

It had, unsurprisingly, sent them to sleep within the hour, but it was evidently a sleep that didn’t last.

Emil was indeed speaking to Sigve, whose eyes were bright and focused on the child currently stroking his hair. Under Søren’s gaze, Emil slid his hand through Sigve’s long hair, twisting a strand around one finger. Sigve smiled, reaching up to take hold of Emil’s hand and link their fingers together as the child spoke once more.  
  
“The sun makes the ground warm in the summer. At night, the forest makes all sorts of sounds. The trees, some birds, the animals- they all make noise. It’s nicer than our old bed.” He paused, then wriggled, shoulder brushing against a motionless Søren. ”But not as comfortable as this bed. It’s so _soft!”_  
  
Sigve nodded, sighing deeply and gripping Emil’s hand with his long fingers. At that, Emil resumed his stroking, and spoke in a curious little tone. As if making up for his earlier shyness, he wasn’t holding back now when it came to chattering. “I like him. He’s got a cat, _and_ he smiles a lot. Professor Dahl didn’t smile at all, and he didn’t like cats.”  
  
His brother arched his eyebrows, and Søren had the impression that, despite his hesitation, Sigve was immediately judgemental when it came to the issue of cats.

“Do you think he sleeps in here?” Emil asked seriously, a frown in his voice. “Would he sleep beside me?” Søren conjured the mental image of Hamlet doing his usual bad habit and sleeping on Emil’s head, and wondered if the boy would actually _like_ that. Whatever the case, Emil’s next words jerked him from whimsical thoughts, and back into their situation.

“Why won’t you speak?” Emil mumbled, and Søren was taken aback at the longing in his tone. He imagined Emil with a hand against his brother’s cheek, eyes wide and yearning. “Please talk to me. I just wanna hear you talk.”  
  
From his position, Søren could see Sigve struggle, looking torn at what was asked of him. With Emil in the way, he couldn’t see what was happening, catching only the flutter of Sigve’s hands. Whatever it was, Emil sighed, and leaned in to the hand his brother curved around his face.  
  
“Someday,” he said, and the blissful way in which he breathed it had Søren imagining he was merely repeating it. “That’s okay. I’m happy you’re back. I used to talk to myself and pretend it was you, when I was with Professor Dahl. He didn’t like me doing it, so I used to do it when I was sad and couldn’t sleep. Professor Dahl would come into my room when that happened, but he just sat there and didn’t do anything- but I liked pretending _you_ were there instead.”  
  
Søren’s eyes were on the bedsheets, but he was taken aback at what he was hearing. With every word, Emil was winning him over completely: the shy, sensitive boy, chattering away to his brother and revealing love deeper than he’d ever think possible from a five-year-old.

He wondered if it was a hulder trait; the ability to love so fiercely, and with such unwavering loyalty no matter how far the distance.

Whatever he was feeling, it wasn’t anything compared to Sigve, who gave an almighty sniff and dragged the back of his hand across his eyes, mouth pressed into a trembling line. He took a moment to collect himself, and finally took in a steadying breath through his nose. His brother waited patiently, wriggling in his position and relaxing back against Søren’s shoulder.  
  
He didn’t have to wait for long, thanks to the arms snaking out and firmly grasping hold of him.  
  
“Sigve!” Emil squealed when his brother dragged him into a hug, face buried in his little neck. A hand stroking his hair back, Emil squirmed, but eventually went limp and let his brother cradle him like an infant. “Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?”

Sigve shook his head, arms vice-like around his brother- and Søren thought that, quite possibly, Emil couldn’t have said something better.  
  
The child reached up to stroke Sigve’s hair, fingers curling in the strands as he nestled against his older brother. The two remained that way until Sigve’s sniffs died down, and Emil tugged gently at his hair to gain his attention once more.

“I’m sleepy,” were his only words, and Søren saw Sigve’s smile as he raised his head, the relief tangible at the little prince’s statement. Emil moved back, and to Søren’s delight, nestled his face against his chest- and, when his brother’s arms curled around him again, moved his hand to clutch Sigve’s.

“Please don’t leave while I’m asleep,” Emil whispered, voice the barest of whispers. Sigve shook his head, and leant down to brush his lips against Emil’s round cheek. Emil grinned up at his brother, and let his eyes slide closed against Søren. “I love you, Sigve. Night night”

In that moment, Søren couldn’t think of somewhere he’d rather be than with them.

* * *

While normally a deep sleeper, it would take all but a bomb blast to wake Søren on a typical day. Therefore, when he awoke before dawn for the second time that night, he could only blame it on the two atypical guests sharing his bed, and especially the child who dug his feet into his ribs and was almost sleeping on top of him.

It seemed to be a sentiment shared by Sigve, stirring from his own sleep in the muted light of his bedroom. Blinking lazily and focusing on Søren almost immediately, he didn’t seem to mind the early awakening, and simply watched the man lying across from him.

His hair was ruffled, falling over his eyes and obscuring his vision from sleep, and Søren felt his stomach flip at the endearingly messy sight.  
  
”Hey,” he breathed, shifting so he could face the other man fully and grinning at him. A ghost of a smile flitted across Sigve’s face and he tilted his chin up, eyes upon Søren. ”Bed comfortable enough, then?”  
  
Sigve nodded, fingers moving to smooth against the pillowcase. Søren noticed that his hands weren’t shaking as they had been before, now perfectly steady- and, on a whim, reached out to offer Sigve his hand, palm up and facing him.

It was the huldrekarl who threaded their fingers together, and brought their hands to rest on the sleeping child between them, expression peaceful and lips parted as he dreamt. Søren glanced down at Emil, and felt a beam stretch across his face at the presence of the boy.

”Look at him,” the Danish man whispered, barely able to contain his delight, “ _look_ at him. He’s the sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen. Sigve, I was so worried that something might have happened to him, but he’s _perfect._ The hulder took really good care of him, didn’t they?”  
  
Sigve’s name was still strange to him, tongue not quite used to using it, but he was only half-listening. Eyes focused on his brother, Sigve leant down to kiss his forehead, stroking back his hair and letting his own eyes slide closed. As he watched the loving gesture, the devotion that went into each action, Søren could only imagine how Sigve was feeling.  
  
He’d believed, thanks to their failed escape attempt, that he was responsible for whatever awful things happened to Emil. That, if he was hurt or _killed,_ it would be his fault for causing them to be separated in the first place. Surely he’d imagined the worst over those two lonely years, silently wasting away in that prison and living for nothing.

He hadn’t caused Emil further suffering. Instead, he’d given him a life better than he could’ve dreamed of for him- and Søren felt himself swallowing as Sigve smiled against his brother’s silken hair.

”I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you two are okay now.” Sigve glanced up, forehead creased, and Søren shrugged helplessly. “It’s driven me mad, thinking of how awful you two had it; and how much worse it was for _you_ , especially after you were separated. Now you’re together, and safe, and… God, Sigve. I’m so grateful that I told Berwald I’d help him clear out that house, that we just _happened_ to find you in a house he just _happened_ to be assigned to.”  
  
The Dane was still reeling at the sheer luck of it all. His mind had continuously moved to two different scenarios over the past few days: Sigve discovered and killed, or discovered and once again becoming a lab specimen. It made him feel sick to his stomach, almost dizzy at the what-ifsof Sigve’s future.  
  
He wasn’t the richest man in the world, or the most powerful. But keeping them safe and warm, clothed and loved… what he had to share, he’d share in an instant, and Søren was prepared to give all that he had to these two wonderful people.

Sigve seemed less whimsical than he; merely tired. They hadn’t been able to do anything for the dark rings around his eyes, but already his eyes were brighter, face still deathly thin but with colour in his cheeks from both food and warmth. He was getting healthier, andactively trying to do so- and the knowledge that he’d refused to give up on life in the days before they even set out to find Emil was incredible.

When they’d found him, alone and willingly starving, he’d been ready to die. That prison was all Sigve had ever known, with no hope of an escape and only listless days after the professor’s death. Yet when they’d found him, offered him tentative care and affection, he’d come alive once more.

They’d shown him that decent humans existed, that he was more than what the professor had thought of him, and he’d grasped onto that with a determination to survive- to _live._

Søren had offered him the lifeline, but Sigve had taken it of his own free will. He was here because he _wanted_ to be here.

”You’re going to speak again one day, aren’t you?” He didn’t mean it to sound insistent, and only realised that it was when the words had already escaped his lips. Søren opened his mouth for the huldrekarl to cut him off with a nod, gaze serious and mouth quirking in a hopeful little smile.  
  
Sighing and stretching, back arched, Søren grinned over at him. “The first one to hear you’ll be Emil, I bet. That kid adores you.” Sigve didn’t deny this, and if his smile was anything, it was smug. “I’ve said it before, and I’m probably gonna repeat myself a thousand times over. He’s a great little kid, Sigve. You should be proud of him- you’re the one who raised him, after all.”  
  
Sigve shrugged, then nodded. Mouth suddenly dry, Søren wondered how he hadn’t noticed how beautiful the other man’s languid, graceful movements were. Suddenly, Sigve caught his gaze, and bit down on his lip as his eyes searched Søren’s.

It was that moment again, just as the one from earlier: when all he could see was Sigve, when his heart ached and thoughts were only on the man before him. When Emil sighed, his hands curling into his shirt, Søren moved to stroke his hair on autopilot, eyes still on Sigve and breathing suddenly heavier.  
  
Sigve slowly propped himself up on his elbow, almost as if testing the uncertain waters between them. Now Søren was looking up at him, at the ever-watchful man whose lips were pressed tightly as he thought.

He leant down, and Søren could feel his shallow breaths as a hand cupped his face. Sigve’s nose bumped against his, and as he closed his eyes, felt those long, pale eyelashes brush against his skin.

Then Sigve was kissing him, and he could think of nothing else.

His lips were dry and chapped, almost cautious in moving against his. His grip on Søren’s face was uncertain and fluttering in pressure, as if he’d never done this before- which he probably hadn’t. But he cupped his jaw and kissed him so sweetly that he focused on _just that,_ Sigve's gentleness reciporated in full as their kiss grew deeper.  
  
As he’d began it, Sigve ended it. He pulled back almost apologetically, blinking rapidly and unable to quite meet Søren’s gaze. Their noses bumped when he brushed his lips against Søren’s once more, brief and sweet; the gentlest of affections.

When his eyes moved to Søren’s, suddenly bashful, he wondered if one could fall in love after just a few days.

“Well,” he said, and then stopped, aware of the grin stretching from ear to ear. Did anything need to be said? Could anything _be_ said about what had just happened between them? He settled for the most simplistic phrase: “Thank you.”

His hand moved to cup Sigve’s cheek, and the huldrekarl reached up to hold it in place with delight in his expression. His free hand stroked Emil’s hair back, and Søren wondered how the boy could still be asleep when so much had changed between them; how he could be so blissfully dreaming instead of gazing at Sigve’s beautiful face.  
  
”What now?” he murmured, entangling his fingers with Sigve’s, and the huldrekarl merely shrugged and smiled.

”Well, we’ve got to get things sorted for you two to live here, and I guess getting birth certificates is the first thing. Illegally obtained, most likely, but it’s the only way to do it. I’m not sure if the government registers hulder.” Sigve arched his eyebrows, and Søren grinned sheepishly, thumb trailing along his cheekbone. “Berwald’s mentioned a guy and his backdoor activities before- Dutch, I think he is. It’ll make it seem like you two are registered, have all the legal documents you need… and it means Emil can go to school! Not right away, but eventually. We’ll get it sorted.”

The words poured from in a rush of sincerity and eagerness, and Sigve gradually digested his words. He shrugged again, as if accepting it and Søren let out a breathy laugh as he shook his head.  
  
”It’s crazy, all that’s happened. I mean, I couldn’t stand back and leave you- before long, you would’ve died there. What kind of life would that have been- experimented on since birth, then dying alone? It’s not a life at all. Call me a bleeding heart, but I saw you, and I knew that I had to help you.”

And Emil- you two needed to be reunited. I had to help you find him, and get him back for you. And then with this talk of living together, and school…” The Danish man trailed off, and his jaw worked around the next words. ”I couldn’t leave you, after that. I couldn’t just leave you two to fend for themselves. It wouldn’t really have been helping you if I did _that_ in the end.”

He paused, and then started once more. ”Now, though- well, I was thinking earlier, when Emil was getting his bath. You and Emil, you could be my family. We could be some sort of family- if you wanted that.Families look after one another, don’t they? They care for them, and they love them. We could do that. We _can_ do that; we’re doing it already!” He grinned again, heart yearning and hoping for it with all of his heart.

Sigve shook his head wonderingly, as if Søren was asking a bizarre question which he’d already planned the answer to. Then, stroking back Emil’s hair and smiling at him, he gave a single, resolute nod- and his hand reached for Søren’s once more.  
  
”That’s a yes, isn’t it?” Søren’s breaths were coming quickly in his excitement, and Sigve shrugged, amused at his behaviour. ”Thank you. _Thank_ you. My god, I’ve known you three days- but this is what _we_ want, what we can work on, right?”

Sigve nodded, and he gripped Søren’s hand in his. Søren moved to cup his face in a hand, and Sigve let out a breath, letting his eyes slide shut and nestling against Søren’s gentle touch.  
  
With the two huldrekarl sleeping in his arms, their trust and care reciporated in full, he couldn’t express his delight at Sigve’s fate. He could now move into a life that suited him, was good to him, let him finally experience freedom and kindness and love- and Emil was safe and well, reunited with the brother he adored. For Søren, that was all that mattered. Their love in return was simply a wonderful bonus.

Sigve’s hand tightened around his, lips brushing against his cheek, and Søren could only count his blessings at this ending; _their ending._ In the end, he had all he ever wanted- and what they _all_ ever wanted.

A family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so All He Ever Wanted comes to an end. Thank you very much to everyone who read this, and please leave a kudo and a comment to let me know what you think!


End file.
